


Regulus Black and the Darkest Shadows

by Manage_mischief



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Friendship, Good Regulus Black, Good Slytherins, Mentions of Mental Illness, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of past abuse, Minor Dorlene, Mystery, Original Character(s), Redemption, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Regulus Black Lives, Regulus Black-centric, Triggers are rare, angsty regulus, before relevant chapters, but mentioned in notes, minor Wolfstar, wholesome slytherins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25113145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manage_mischief/pseuds/Manage_mischief
Summary: "To tell you the truth, mate, I don’t think anyone is really a bad person. I think people make bad choices, especially when they’re lost or confused. But, deep down, I don’t believe anyone can survive without a little bit of good in 'em."War is approaching, and Regulus Black realizes that he's chosen the wrong side. Determined to atone for past mistakes, Regulus makes a series of decisions that will change his life forever.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 48
Kudos: 118





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty! Here it is, my first multi-chapter fic. I hope you all enjoy it. I've spent a lot of time on my OCs, trying to make them likable and realistic. I've also tried my best to accurately portray the extremely complicated family dynamics between Regulus and the other Blacks. I'm going to post more frequently at the beginning, so we can get really into the story. Then, I'll likely move to once a week. I have about 15 chapters so far! Anyways, here you are! I will include any major trigger warnings in the notes for each individual chapter.
> 
> P.S. I'm still looking for a beta reader. If you're interested, please DM @manage-mischief on Tumblr for details. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_September 1st, 1972_

Regulus Black stood with his family on the train platform. He squirmed uncomfortably as his mother doted on him. “Have a wonderful year, darling. I’ll see you at Christmas,” she cooed, patting his cheek affectionately before turning to his older brother, Sirius. “And _you_ ,” she sneered, “ _behave yourself_.” 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I will,” he said, not paying attention as he searched the station eagerly. He suddenly broke into a grin. “It’s James!” he said excitedly, “See you later, Reg!” He darted off into the steam and crowd of families, leaving Regulus behind. 

Though this was not the first time Regulus had visited Platform 9 ¾ he was still amazed by his surroundings. Groups of wizarding families ushered their children forward, exchanging heartwarming goodbyes. Owls, toads, rats, cats, and all sorts of magical pets zoomed past him in their cages. Older students in their House colors reunited in a flurry of excitement and anticipation. It was, for lack of a better word, magical. Regulus could feel his own anticipation mounting. Soon, he too would be a student at Hogwarts. He would make himself new and interesting friends and learn how to use his magic, just like hundreds of generations of family members before him. Even better, he would get to spend more time with his brother, free to socialize and explore away from their hovering parents and family pressures. To Regulus, the future looked bright. 

He was shaken from his thoughts by his mother’s claw-like hand on his shoulder. “Come now, Regulus, let’s not stand too close to _them_ ,” she hissed, glancing over at the platform entrance where another small family stood: two adults and a young brown-haired girl in peculiar clothing. The two adults seemed just as enchanted as their child by the bustling scene. Their mouths were hanging open and their eyes were wide. It was clear they were Muggles. The group piqued his interest. He had never met any proper Muggles before. However, Regulus obediently followed his parents and moved away from the nonmagical folks. 

His father crouched down at his side, noticing how his son was still staring at the small family. “Now remember, son,” he said, sternly, “that while Hogwarts may accept _questionable_ students, they will never have the strength and power that we do. Be careful. They wish for a society where family lines such as ours mean nothing. They hope to take your power away from you. Do not let them. Be mindful of who you associate yourself with,” his father threatened.

Regulus nodded. He, unlike his brother, knew better than to argue with his parents openly. His father stuck out his hand. Regulus shook it. “Good luck, boy,” he called as Regulus boarded the train. “Make us proud.” 

\---

After the long, uneventful train ride, Regulus finally stepped down onto the Hogsmeade Station Platform. His cousin, Narcissa, with whom he had sat for the duration of the journey, gave him a small hug. “See you at the Slytherin Table, Reggie,” she winked and ran off towards a horseless carriage with her other 7th year friends. 

“Firs’ years, follow me,” a giant man with a large beard shouted. Pushed forward by the crowd of eager young witches and wizards, Regulus followed the booming voice. Before he had moved far, he felt a tap on his shoulder. His brother, Sirius, stood awkwardly behind him, accompanied by three other Gryffindor boys that Regulus assumed were the friends he spoke about so frequently. He pushed down a surge of jealousy. He was finally here with his brother. They’d get to be proper friends, now, too. 

Sirius bounced up and down on his tiptoes as he spoke: “Good luck, Reg. I’ll see you at the feast, ‘kay?”

Regulus gazed hopefully at his brother, expressing a desire he had not dared admit to any other member of his family. “Yeah…maybe I’ll be in Gryffindor, too!” 

He searched his brother’s face for a reaction. Sirius looked a bit surprised at his eager outburst, and smiled sadly. “Yeah. Maybe you will,” he said, without conviction. One of the boys nudged Sirius. “Well, I’d best be going. Get a move on. You don’t want to miss Hagrid and the boats!” And with that, Sirius left his brother amongst the sea of unfamiliar faces.

\---

As the line of first years waited to be ushered into the hall, Regulus’s heart pounded fiercely in his chest. His peers excitedly babbled about which House they would be in, what classes would be like, and if they reckoned they’d be able to make the Quidditch team in their first year. He spotted the brown-haired girl from the train platform standing with a few others, looking nervous. 

“How’d you reckon they sort us? Is it a test? I haven’t studied!” She ran a hand through her wavy hair, anxiously. 

“If it is a test, I doubt it’s the kind you have to study for, Des. Relax!” a curly-haired black girl laughed next to her. 

“I know, I know. I just don’t want to make a fool out of myself! After all, I’m new to this whole,” she vaguely gestured around the room, “magic business.” As the girl glanced around, she caught Regulus staring at her. She raised an eyebrow. Regulus quickly tore his gaze away, remembering his father’s warning. The girl was clearly a Muggleborn witch. And Regulus, guided by years of wanting desperately to please his parents and avoid confrontation, figured he’d better not engage in the conversation. 

The new students processed into the Great Hall, drinking in their surroundings with greedy eyes. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The ceiling was enchanted with realistic depictions of the glittering night sky. Candles flickered and bobbed in midair. Ghosts floated happily through the aisles between the four, long House tables, where older students laughed and chattered. As the procession continued, however, the voices died down. Everyone knew the sorting was about to begin. Regulus searched the room and caught his brother’s eye. He gave a small, hopeful smile, which Sirius returned. “Good luck,” his brother mouthed. The messy-haired boy sitting next to him gave him a thumbs up. 

As the first years reached the front of the hall, a severe-looking professor carried out a stool and an old, battered hat. Regulus assumed this was the Sorting Hat that he’d heard about from Sirius. Oddly enough, it didn’t seem to be on fire, as Sirius had warned him it would be. Perhaps they lit it ablaze later. 

As soon as the professor had set the hat upon the stool, its folds formed into a grotesque mouth and it began to sing. Regulus heard some of the other students behind him yelp in surprise.

_Gather round, all.  
Let us answer the call.  
For my decisions, on you,  
Are about to befall._

__

_I am merely a hat—  
An old one, at that—  
But once a year only,  
I’m sent out to chat ._

__

__

__

_So today, ere we dine,  
Let me look for a sign.  
I won’t take but a moment;  
It is simply divine._

____

__

____

_Oh, Gryffindor,  
What do you have in store?  
Can you be brave—  
Face danger and gore? _

_____ _

__

_____ _

_Ravenclaw’s wit,  
Is the reason I sit.  
Are your brains clearly working?  
Are the candles all lit?_

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

_Dear Hufflepuff,  
Made of magical stuff.  
Will you prove yourself loyal—  
A wizard quite up to snuff?_

_______ _ _ _

__

_______ _ _ _

_And old Slytherin,  
Who will you allow in?  
Those who have dreams,  
Let your ambitions begin._

________ _ _ _ _

__

________ _ _ _ _

_Though four we divide,  
Do not set aside,  
Take heed of my warning:  
By unity and love, we must abide. _

________ _ _ _ _

The song concluded, and hushed whispers filled the hall. Regulus wasn’t sure if the Sorting Hat’s songs always ended on such an ominous, preachy note. He didn’t know what the hat meant by “love and unity,” but it sounded a bit too sappy for his taste. Clearly, unity only went so far amongst the wizarding world. His parents were proof of that. Corruption and lust for power had dominated politics for centuries. One hat’s song telling a bunch of teenagers to become friends wasn’t going to change that. 

________ _ _ _ _

But, no matter. The fading of the applause signaled to everyone that the Sorting Ceremony was about to begin. Regulus steadied his breathing, preparing himself for what was to come. The few students in front of him seemed to be doing the same. 

________ _ _ _ _

The tall witch who had brought the hat out was once again standing in front of the audience, holding a long parchment in front of her. She adjusted her glasses and then called out in a booming, Scottish accent: “Tiffany Jane Archer.” 

________ _ _ _ _

The girl at the front of the line squealed and bounded up the stairs. She plopped herself down on the stool as the professor placed the battered hat upon her head. To Regulus’s relief, it did not catch fire. 

________ _ _ _ _

“GRYFFINDOR!” The hat shouted, and cheers erupted from the table at the end of the hall, where Sirius sat with his mates. 

________ _ _ _ _

Two more students were sorted, though Regulus was too nervous to pay attention. His palms felt sweaty. What would the hat see in him? Would he be able to ask it to place him with his brother? Would this be his chance to break from the grip of his parents, as Sirius had done? 

________ _ _ _ _

“Regulus Arcturus Black,” the tall professor called. He slowly climbed the steps, careful not to lose his balance. He seated himself upon the stool, waiting for the hat to slip over his eyes. 

________ _ _ _ _

It never did. As soon as the Sorting Hat’s brim had brushed his dark brown hair, it had made its decision. 

________ _ _ _ _

“SLYTHERIN!” It bellowed. Regulus was in shock. How could the hat have made its decision so quickly? Still dazed, he took his place at the Slytherin Table, where his cousin Narcissa was waving and cheering. He sat next to her, as there were no other first years at the table, yet. 

________ _ _ _ _

“Good job, Reggie! I knew you’d make us proud!” Narcissa exclaimed and kissed his cheek. 

________ _ _ _ _

Across the room, he saw Sirius’s disappointed frown. Regulus grew annoyed. Why did everyone act like the sorting was the end-all-be-all of determining who you were? Slytherin wasn’t an inherently bad house! Good witches and wizards had been in Slytherin! Blimey, his parents had been in Slytherin! And, sure, they had their faults, but deep down, Regulus cared for his family. He was proud to uphold their legacy. It was Regulus who should be disappointed in Sirius, not the other way around! 

________ _ _ _ _

Imagining his mother and father’s joyful reaction to the news, he slightly cheered up and turned to watch the rest of the students being sorted. There were only about half of the original number left. 

________ _ _ _ _

“Desdemona Rain Lewis.” The witch, who Narcissa had told him was Professor McGonagall, read aloud. It was the girl from the train platform. She seemed to be shaking slightly as she approached the seat. Like Regulus, the hat had barely touched her head before shouting its decision:

________ _ _ _ _

“RAVENCLAW!” 

________ _ _ _ _

One of the middle tables erupted. Desdemona grinned widely and dashed towards her new housemates, sliding onto the bench and eagerly introducing herself to the other newly-sorted first-year Ravenclaws. 

________ _ _ _ _

\---

________ _ _ _ _

The sorting concluded, and the feast, soon after. Regulus ate his fill of steak-and-kidney pie, sprouts, tarts, and ice cream. He was lulled into a satiated fatigue. Narcissa, a Slytherin Prefect, led Regulus and his fellow first-years towards the Dungeons. 

________ _ _ _ _

“I am showing you how to get to our Common Room. Remember these directions. I don’t want anyone to go missing…again…” she paused, frowning slightly. “Anyways, the current password is _Draconius Fatalis_.” As she said the words, an entryway was revealed. Narcissa led the younger students through, into an atrium decorated with snakes and silver. Greenish light shown through the windows. Regulus realized that they were under the Black Lake. 

________ _ _ _ _

“Boys dorms are to the left, girls to the right. Classes start tomorrow, so you’ll want to head up and get unpacked straight away! Have a good night!” Narcissa finished and flounced away. 

________ _ _ _ _

Regulus stood awkwardly to the side, fiddling with the Black Family Ring on his right middle finger. Four boys quickly approached him. 

________ _ _ _ _

“Oi,” said one of the boys, “You’re a Black, aren’t you?” 

________ _ _ _ _

Regulus narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “Yeah…”

________ _ _ _ _

The boy didn’t seem fazed by Regulus’s lack of enthusiasm. “I’m Edward Mulciber. I think our dads went here together!” 

________ _ _ _ _

Regulus eased. “Oh, I think he did mention your name before. Nice to meet you,” he greeted and shook the boy’s hand. 

________ _ _ _ _

“Hey listen,” Edward continued, suddenly more serious. “This is Quentin Avery—first year like us—and Severus Snape, he’s a second year.” He paused so that Regulus could shake their hands, too. “And this,” he gestured to the tallest and most intimidating among them, “is Thomas Rowle. 6th year.” Rowle nodded tersely but did not offer his hand. 

________ _ _ _ _

“They’re involved in a little…club…I guess you would call it, and, well, they thought you and I would be interested in joining.” 

________ _ _ _ _

“Me? Why me? I’ve only just met you,” Regulus questioned. 

________ _ _ _ _

Rowle spoke, his deep voice startling Regulus: “We know enough about you to know you’d be a good candidate. The Black Family is one of the most influential bloodlines in wizarding history. By joining our group, you’ll align yourself with some of the other most powerful wizards in the world. Your parents have already expressed interest in our cause, to our older members. Your family has stake in what’s to come.” 

________ _ _ _ _

Regulus regarded Rowle skeptically. “And what’s to come?” 

________ _ _ _ _

“The revolution.”

________ _ _ _ _


	2. A Family Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus attends Lucius and Narcissa’s wedding and receives a job offer—an offer he has no choice but to accept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW for this chapter—Mentions of Past Abuse. Second italicized paragraph.**
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this chapter! I made up the date of the wedding to fit in with the timeline I have planned. Thank you all so far for your lovely likes and reviews! And thank you to my lovely editor @leah-ravenanne 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Regulus stood off to the side with his Mum and Dad, watching the happy couple walk down the aisle. Applause rang throughout the large, ornate ballroom. Guests raised their wands, conjuring soaring doves and floating lilies to surround the newlyweds. Regulus’s mother wiped a tear from her cheek with a handkerchief. 

Following his parents dutifully, Regulus entered the reception area where—so it seemed—the entirety of the living members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight had gathered to celebrate the union of the Houses Black and Malfoy. 

“Oh Druella, you must be so proud.” His mother cried as her sister-in-law approached the small family. The two older women kissed cheeks in greeting. Regulus and his father lingered, not eager to engage in any more emotional conversation about dresses or flowers or food. Regulus’s Uncle Cygnus joined them. 

“Orion.” He greeted Regulus’s father with a sturdy handshake.

“Congratulations, brother,” Regulus’s father responded. “Narcissa made herself quite the match. The Malfoys will be beneficial allies.” 

“Very true, dear brother, very true,” Cygnus drawled, looking pompous. Regulus wanted to gag. How could two people be so dreadfully dull? Surely, talk of marriage alliances and family purity could only be so entertaining. If Sirius were here, he’d have snuck off with Regulus to find the cake by now. Before he could stop himself, Regulus pictured his brother grinning mischievously and joking; “C’mon Reg, Old Wally’ll never know!” The image pained him. 

\---

_The day Sirius had run away and abandoned him, more than a year ago, was the last day the pair had spoken properly. Their parents had been throwing a fit after having found the boys listening to some Muggle rock music in Sirius’s room. Regulus remembered the day well. It was one of those lazy days when he and Sirius had simply enjoyed being in each other’s company. When they acted like normal brothers from a normal family, setting aside any animosity or jealousy their parents tried to create between them. It was the type of day that Regulus had cherished._

_Then, in an instant, his life was forever altered. His mother burst into the room, screaming, having been home early from tea. She had called Sirius an abomination, had said he was corrupting Regulus and would bring their family to ruin. She smacked his brother across the face so hard that he had tumbled onto the bedroom floor. Regulus was frozen in horror. By the time he regained his senses, Sirius was screaming back, throwing his clothes into his school trunk. Minutes later, he was gone, leaving Regulus behind._

\---

“Regulus, I am so glad you came.” Narcissa embraced him, snapping him out of the painful memories. Regulus genuinely smiled for the first time that night. Of all of his extended family members, he liked Narcissa the most. 

“Congratulations, Cissy. I hope you’re happy,” Regulus said. He noticed a shadow pass over her face for an instant, but it was gone before he could even be sure it had been there. Her beaming smile was back. 

“It’s a great day for the family. And Lucius is…a good man,” she said. “Here, come on, let me introduce you properly. Lucius, darling,” Narcissa called, grabbing onto Regulus’s arm and guiding him through the droves of wedding guests. A tall, blonde-haired man turned around to face her. He smiled brightly as she approached. It was clear he thought the world of her. Regulus was glad, hoping that meant he’d treat his cousin right. 

“Dear, this is my youngest cousin, Regulus.” Narcissa introduced the two men. 

Lucius stuck out a hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Regulus. Your mother and father have told me you’re still in school? Slytherin, I presume?” 

“Yes, Slytherin. I’m in my 6th year,” Regulus replied. 

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Lucius drawled. “Well, Narcissa raves about you. Says you’re her favorite cousin. And, from what I hear, we may be working together very soon, so I’m glad to hear you’ve gotten stellar reviews.” He winked and chuckled heartily. Before Regulus could process what Malfoy had said, Lucius and Narcissa were being swept away by more wedding guests. Narcissa glanced behind her, throwing an apologetic look in Regulus’s direction as she hung off of Lucius’s arm. “Talk to you later,” she mouthed before she was swallowed up by the crowd. 

“Look, darling!” Regulus was startled by a shrill voice squealing with glee, “it’s little baby Reggie!” Regulus’s oldest cousin Bellatrix dragged her husband towards him. “Well, don’t be daft, Rodolphus, say hello!” she scolded the large man beside her, slapping his arm playfully. 

“Hello, Regulus,” Rodolphus said monotonously. Regulus—who had been quite certain that his cousin’s husband was only capable of speaking in one-syllable words—was surprised at the man’s talkativeness. Perhaps it was the joy of the occasion that made Rodolphus so positively chatty.

“Lovely to see you again, Rodolphus,” Regulus responded, boredly. He hoped his lack of interest in conversation would send Bellatrix on her way. Unfortunately, his coldness did not seem to deter her. 

“Reggie, I’ve been talking with Goyle—you know Goyle, graduated last year—and he’s been saying that you’re quite the capable student!” Bellatrix praised him, smiling widely. Her deep brown eyes, which had always unnerved Regulus, looked like they were about to pop out of her head. 

“I work hard,” Regulus said. 

“Well, he also told me you hang around with some of his crew—Mulciber, Avery, Snape—but, you don’t seem to express as much interest in their…extracurricular activities as of late.” Bellatrix pouted her lips and looked disappointed. “And, I was shocked to hear about this! I mean, you want to make your Mummy and Daddy proud, don’t you? You want to be extraordinary? I know you don’t want to end up on the same path as your…old brother…oh what was his name?” she asked, pretending she had forgotten, “Sirius?” 

Regulus glared. 

\---

_In the days that had followed Sirius’s flight, Regulus had been distraught, fearing for his brother’s life. He searched his brother’s room for clues about where he had gone, sending countless owls to discover his whereabouts. He barely spoke to his parents—he lived in fear of another outburst if he mentioned his disgraced older sibling. His mother had looked manic, and frankly, more terrifying than ever (which was saying a lot) when she had burned Sirius off of the family tree._

_About a month into that summer, he received word from a friend of a friend that his brother was living with the Potters. However, instead of feeling glad that his brother was safe, Regulus was overcome with resentment. His older brother was supposed to be his protector. Instead, Sirius had abandoned Regulus, finding himself a new brother in James Potter. He had left Regulus to deal with their parents, with their family pressures and expectations, and hadn’t even bothered to write! To apologize! To offer to take him along. Sirius had tossed Regulus aside, first chance._

_Without his brother, Regulus had no escape from the constant barrage of Pureblood ideologies with which his family aligned. Sirius’s presence had been a beacon of hope for Regulus. Sirius was braver than Regulus felt he could ever be. When Regulus was afraid to speak his mind, Sirius was there to back him up. More than that, he was Regulus’s guardian when their parents screamed and shouted. He was the champion who had defended him from bullies. He was his best friend._

\---

Bellatrix clicked her tongue in disappointment and shook her head. Regulus felt his parents approach him from behind. His mother’s hand rested upon his shoulder, possessively. “Bella, dear, you look marvelous, as always.” his mother doted on her niece. “Have you spoken to Regulus about the opportunity, yet?” she questioned the younger witch. Regulus curiously stared at his parents. Orion nodded his head, signaling for Bellatrix to speak. 

“Not yet, Auntie Walburga,” she said sweetly, “But, I was just about to! Regulus, all of what I have been saying has had its purpose. I wanted to give you the good news, myself. The Dark Lord has heard of your potential—Rodolphus and I may have put in a good word—” 

Regulus stifled the urge to crack a joke at his cousin-in-law’s expense. He hardly believed that Rodolphus was able to produce a “good word,” let alone say one to the Dark Lord on Regulus’s behalf. 

“—and He wants to initiate you. Properly,” Bellatrix finished with a beaming smile. His parents grinned behind him. His mother choked back a joyful sob. 

“I-I-What?” Regulus stammered. “I-what does the Dark Lord want with me? I’m not even of age yet!” Regulus had figured his family would encourage him to join the Dark Lord sooner or later. They had been priming him for Pureblood perfection ever since he could walk. But he hadn’t expected this offer to come so soon. And to be so definitive. He desperately wished that his brother was here. Sirius would have been able to call his family out, to say that Regulus could make his own decisions. However, Regulus now began to realize his reality; the people surrounding him were the only family he had. They welcomed him. They respected him. They made him feel wanted—something that Regulus had desperately craved ever since Sirius’s departure. This sense of devotion, of belonging, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. There was no sense in rebelling, as his brother had. He was the good son. The one his parents could parade in front of the rest of the world. Even as Bellatrix made her offer, Regulus could sense his parents’ pride. And their pressure. There was really no decision to be made. At least, no decision for Regulus to make.

Holding onto the thought of family, he forced a smile. He stuck out a hand for Bellatrix and Rodolphus to shake. “It would be my honor to represent the Noble House of Black at the Dark Lord’s table.”


	3. Last Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus returns to Hogwarts for his 7th and final year, and learns some surprising news about his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has liked and reviewed so far! I really love reading your comments!! I am working on figuring out a more regular posting schedule, and will let you know when I decide what day of the week will be update day. Until then, enjoy not waiting a week between chapters. If you want more regular updates about my stories and writing, please feel free to give me a follow on Tumblr (@manage-mischief). Hope you all enjoy this chapter! We're really getting into the story now :)
> 
> Also shout out to my amazing beta read @leah-ravenanne 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

_September 1st, 1978_

Regulus and his parents charged through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 at King’s Cross Station. It was his last year at Hogwarts. He glanced around, hoping to catch a brief glimpse of…oh right. Sirius had graduated. He wouldn’t be attending Hogwarts with Regulus this year. He was off in the real world, on the other side of the fight that had been brewing since before Regulus had even arrived at Hogwarts. The next time he would see his brother, it would likely be on the battlefield. 

And today, Regulus would show Mulciber and all of his brothers and sisters in arms his great accomplishment; his new Dark Mark. 

Mulciber ran up to him, bringing his mind back to the present. “Oi, Reg,” he whispered excitedly. “Did you get it? Did you really get it?” 

Regulus nodded, furtively glanced around to ensure no one else was watching, and pulled up his left sleeve to reveal the new tattoo on his forearm. Regulus’s parents, who were quietly observing the scene, beamed. He had made them proud. 

“Wow. To think, the Dark Lord gave that to you himself! What an honor!” Ed gushed.

“Don’t worry, Ed. You’ll get yours soon enough,” Regulus replied, reassuring his friend. “Seventh year, can you believe it? C’mon, let’s go find a compartment with the others.” Regulus hugged his mother, shook his father’s hand, and turned towards the train with his friend. 

As he climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express, he came face to face with another person he had no desire in seeing. She had grown tall in the six years since he had first laid eyes on her. In fact, she was now barely an inch shorter than he was, which irked him. Her brown curls were pulled back by a polka-dotted headband that was tied in a small bow on top. Her clear, plastic spectacles magnified her already large, blue-grey eyes, giving her a sort of owlish quality. The smile faded from her thin lips when she saw him. 

“Black,” she said, eyes narrowed. She was not a fan of his either. 

“Lewis,” he sneered back, and shoved his way past her and her friends. Mulciber was close behind him. 

“C’mon Des, let’s go,” Marlene McKinnon urged her friend, who looked to be on the verge of an angry tirade. Desdemona huffed and followed her friend in the opposite direction. 

Desdemona Lewis had intrigued Regulus when he had first met her six years ago. Not long after, however, he discovered that she rather annoyed the living shit out of him. She was stuck up, judgmental, and made it her life’s mission to outperform him on everything. The pair were always competing for the top spot in their year. And sadly, since last year, he had been forced to spend even more time around her, as they received the same number of OWLs and consequently took many of the same NEWT level subjects. 

“God,” Ed remarked, after Desdemona was out of earshot. “What a bitch. Even if she wasn’t a Mudblood, I’d still avoid her like the plague. Always acting so high and mighty. I swear if Ravenclaw wins the Quidditch Cup again this year…” He didn’t finish the thought, obviously not wanting to consider that horrid possibility. 

Regulus simply rolled his eyes. “She’s not technically a Mudblood. Her dad was a wizard, remember?” 

“So she says…how would she know anyway? Bloke went belly up before she could even talk, I heard.” 

“Ah, imagine that. A time when she couldn’t talk. Sounds lovely,” Regulus joked. Ed laughed and shoved him. 

“Alright then, let’s find the others. I don’t wanna have to share a compartment with some daft first years like last year.” The boys set off. 

Regulus and Mulciber discovered their friends in a compartment near the end of the train, and joined them. Regulus showed off his brand-new Dark Mark, which gained him plenty of praise and admiration. The group chattered away excitedly about what the Dark Lord had in store for this year, and whether or not he would call any of them up to his main ranks, as he had done with Regulus. The rest of the night passed by in a blur. New students were sorted. The Hat sang once again about the dangers of being divided. The students feasted. Professor Dumbledore warned them all to stay away from the Forbidden Forest. 

Exhausted, Regulus descended into the Dungeon Common Room with his friends, flopped down onto his four-poster bed, and promptly fell asleep. 

\----

The following morning, at breakfast, Regulus received his schedule from Professor Slughorn. 

“Regulus, my boy. I’m glad to see you’ll be continuing with Potions! You have a talent, that’s for sure,” the portly Head-of-House exclaimed. Regulus saw he had double Potions first this thing morning. 

“I’m looking forward to it, sir,” Regulus replied. Slughorn was his favorite Professor. 

“Yes, yes, very good. We’ll have a small class this year. Only six students! It’s sure to be good fun. Speaking of fun, I’m planning on hosting dinner next Friday night. I do hope you can join!” 

“Of course, Professor.” Regulus would never turn down an invitation from Slughorn. There was sure to be some famous witch or wizard worth knowing, and if Regulus’s parents had instilled in him anything, it was the value of networking (well, that and the fact that all Muggles were scum). 

Realizing the time, Regulus shoveled the rest of his oatmeal into his mouth, gulped down some pumpkin juice, and gathered his books for Potions Class. He met Mulciber on his way. 

“You taking Potions again this year?” Regulus asked hopefully.

“No way! I like Professor Slughorn, but if I had to brew another bloody poison antidote I was gonna chop off my hand!” Mucliber laughed and grabbed Regulus’s schedule. “But look. We have Charms tomorrow. Hey, you’re sticking with that Mudblood-loving McGonagall for Transfiguration?” 

“Yeah. Mum and Dad reckon it’s an important subject. Looks good when applying to Ministry jobs,” Regulus said. 

“Ministry jobs? Why on Earth are you thinking about Ministry jobs? You’ve already got the best job there is lined up and waiting for you when you graduate! That’s why I’ve made my schedule light. The Dark Lord doesn’t care if you know how to turn a porcupine into a pincushion!”

Regulus shook his head. “Well, I do think the Dark Lord wants you to know some magic, Ed. Might come in handy when we’re, oh, I don’t know, fighting a revolution.” 

“Point taken. Ah well, I’ve got a free period. Have fun with Sluggie. Give him a kiss for me!” Mulciber cackled as he turned the corner towards the Slytherin Dorms, leaving Regulus alone. 

When he entered the classroom, he discovered Slughorn in a deep discussion with the only other student in the room. Apparently, the rest of the class was running later than he was. 

“My dear that sounds absolutely marvelous. I’m sure you’ll give my own team a run for their money on the pitch this year. Oh, Regulus! Come, come. Miss Lewis and I were just discussing her summer. Did you know she and Gwenog Jones attended a Quidditch training camp with the Holyhead Harpies?” Slughorn gestured to Desdemona, who suddenly became extremely fascinated with a crack in the table. 

“No, I didn’t,” Regulus said, uninterested. He began to move towards another table, across the room. Slughorn stopped him. 

“No, not there. I thought, since we are so small in number, that we ought to sit at one large table. There’s only 6 of you, after all. We’ll all get to know each other much better!” Slughorn chuckled and gestured towards the seat next to Des. “Here, since you and Miss Lewis were the first to arrive, I guess that’ll make you bench partners! Lucky for you. Top of the class, both of you! I daresay you’ll outshine all the others, though you didn’t hear that from me!” He laughed heartily again. 

Desdemona shoved her belongings over to make room for Regulus. He scooted his chair as far away as he could. “I was saving this seat for Broderick,” she muttered accusingly, as if Regulus had stolen it. 

“Trust me, _Desdemona_ , if it were a choice between you and a Dementor, I’d choose the Dementor. At least they’d be a bit more cheerful,” he spit back, using her despised full name.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of quality time with Dementors, _Reggie_. You know, when they lock you and your little wanna-be-Death-Eater friends up in Azkaban for working for You-Know-Who!” 

Regulus paled, but made no attempt to defend himself. Luckily, he was saved from having to respond by the entrance of the other students, and Slughorn’s booming voice signaling the start of the lesson. Desdemona smiled, knowing that her insult had hit its intended target. She straightened up, ran her hand through her messy waves, and opened her book with a smug smirk on her face. She “accidentally” kicked his shin under the table as she scooted her stool. It was going to be a long year. 

\---

That night, Regulus, Mulciber, Avery, and a friend of theirs named Ginger Detritus, all sat in the Slytherin Common Room, attempting to complete their first night’s homework. 

“Ugh,” Ed groaned, “I thought we wouldn’t have much work after our OWLs! I’m sick of school.”

Avery, who had his nose pressed close to the parchment of an essay he was writing, smiled and shook his head. “That attitude’s why you’ll end up babysitting Nagini while the rest of us have all the fun.” Ed sulked. 

As Regulus scanned his Transfiguration textbook for information he could use in his own writing, Ginger shifted closer to him on the couch. He could feel her body press against his. He chose to ignore her advances. The two had been on-again-off-again since their fifth year. Now, however, he was not in the mood. He knew she only fancied him as a status symbol, and he only fancied her because it had angered his brother. Ginger, like himself, aspired to be a Death Eater. Despite his apparent lack of interest, she continued brushing up against him in any way she could. No doubt, this sudden uptick in her affections had been triggered by the sight of his new Mark. 

After an hour of quiet determination, Mulciber slammed his textbook shut. “That’s it. I’ll finish it later.” He leaned back in his chair and threw his feet on the table. Avery looked annoyed as he pulled his essay out from under Mulciber’s muddied boots. 

“So,” Ed yawned. “Did you hear about the latest recruits who’ve joined Dumbledore’s little Order of the Phoenix?” 

“No,” Regulus replied, closing his own book and rolling up his finished assignment. “Who?” 

“Well, that Mudblood Lily Evans, no surprise there. Poor Sev.” The group nodded. It was common knowledge that Snape, who had graduated with his brother last year, had been madly in love with the girl.

“That’s it?” Regulus asked.

“Nope. Dumbledore’s now got Potter and his goons fighting against the Dark Lord, too.”

Regulus slammed his fists hard into the table, causing half the Common Room to stare in their direction. “What?” he spit. 

“Yeah,” Avery continued. “Prince Potter, Head Boy, Quidditch Captain. You’d never know he’s Pureblood, the way he acts. Him and his little gang of cronies. Always walking around like they were so much better than everyone. Idiots, the lot of them. And blood traitors to boot.” The boy glanced over at Regulus, his face filled with pity. 

“Sorry, Reg. I know that’s your brother,” Avery said. Ginger squeezed his arm. 

Regulus’s eyes darkened. He shoved the boiling anger down into the pit of his stomach, lest it bubble over in an even louder outburst. He had known this day would come, but that didn’t make it any less difficult. His right hand absentmindedly rubbed his left forearm, attempting to gain comfort from the black ink on his skin. Attempting to fill the hole that had been left by Sirius’s flight. 

“He’s not my brother. Not anymore.”


	4. The Risky Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A familiar face graces the halls of Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! Yay! So, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be posting Sundays every week. Keep a lookout! Thank you so so much to everyone who has reviewed so far. I really appreciate it. Also, thanks to my incredible beta reader: @Leah-ravenanne :)

September 6th, 1978

Quidditch tryouts were Saturday and Regulus was quite looking forward to them. He was never happier than when he was playing Quidditch. He had played Seeker on the Slytherin Team for three years now, and had enjoyed every moment of it. The freedom of flying through the air, the wind whipping through his black locks, the sting of the frost on his face—all of it made him feel alive. This year, his good friend Woodrow McDrew, would be captaining the team. Although McDrew was not a member of Regulus’s normal circle of friends, Regulus respected McDrew all the same. He was a highly talented and fiercely kind individual. Avery and Mulciber often mocked McDrew, commenting that he should have been in Hufflepuff due to his friendly, outgoing demeanor and staunchly pro-Muggle views. However, Regulus found McDrew to be a breath of fresh air. He demonstrated the best qualities of Slytherin House, and, despite his disapproval of Regulus’s friends, always treated him with respect. No one deserved to be Quidditch Captain more than McDrew.

“’Ello, Regulus!” McDrew greeted him with a wide smile and a firm handshake. “Have a good summer?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I did. How about yourself?”

“Oh, you know, nothin’ too interesting to report. Well, until I found out about being Quidditch Captain!” He lowered his voice, suddenly serious. “I’ve been studying up on the other teams, you know? Who they’re likely to keep, who’s gone, and that sort of stuff. We’ll win this year, I know it!”

Regulus laughed, appreciating his confidence. “That’s great. Who do you reckon are going to be toughest to beat?” he asked, although he already feared the answer. 

“Ravenclaw, as always.” McDrew rolled his eyes. As if on cue, the Ravenclaw team stormed merrily out onto the pitch, trailed by a hopeful group of newcomers ready to try out. The Ravenclaw Quidditch Team was daunting, there was no denying it. Their offensive strength lay in their elite group of Chasers. Gwenog Jones, who had clearly been named Captain, was a force of nature. Rumor had it that she had already signed a contract with the Holyhead Harpies and would be leaving Hogwarts immediately following the Quidditch season to play for them. George Fleet, a lanky, sandy-haired seventh year, came from a long line of Quidditch royalty. His father had, until very recently, played for the English National Team. Regulus had remembered cheering for Giles Fleet when he was a child. And then, there was Des Lewis. For a girl raised by Muggles, she had immense skill. Regulus remembered the conversation he had overheard her having with Slughorn. Gwenog had taken her to training camp with Holyhead this past summer. 

As the blue-clad team passed the Slytherins, McDrew tensed his shoulders. He tersely nodded at Gwenog Jones, who cordially returned the gesture. “Going to the Slug Club next Friday, McDrew? I hear he’s got Ludo Bagman coming in.” 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” McDrew replied. There was an awkward pause before Gwenog cleared her throat and signaled to her team to move down the field. “See you around, McDrew. Black.” She stomped away. 

McDrew exhaled deeply after she had gone. “What a woman!” 

\---

As Regulus packed up his broom after the conclusion of Slytherin field time (during which he’d flown beautifully, thank you very much), he noted a fleck of maroon in his peripheral vision. Sure enough, the Gryffindors had arrived for their time on the pitch. However, Regulus was shocked to see an old familiar face. Laughing along with the rest of the team, with his untidy black hair and smug grin, was none other than James Potter, the brother-stealer. What was he doing here? Come back to relive his glory days? James caught Regulus’s eye as Regulus stared loathingly across the pitch. Bollocks.

With a new sense of urgency, Regulus haphazardly shoved the rest of his equipment into his bag. He tried to blend in between a group of young Gryffindors cheering on their team as he rushed toward the field’s exit. He wasn’t so lucky. 

“Oi, Regulus.” 

Regulus walked faster. 

“Hey! Hey Reggie, come back!” James Potter sprinted towards him, seizing his robes and yanking him backwards. “Didn’t you hear me shouting?” James asked innocently. 

“Oh dear, I guess I’d better get my hearing checked,” Regulus snidely remarked. “What do you want, Potter? Why are you even here? Finally realize that you’re nothing outside of school?” 

James looked uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and fiddled with the cuffs of his robes. “It’s…it’s for work! You know what? That’s none of your business! Listen. I need to talk to you. It’s about Pad—Sirius. It’s about Sirius.” 

Regulus’s throat constricted. “What about him?” 

“Well, he…um. He wanted me to talk to you. He, uh, well… he wants to say he’s sorry for leaving and sorry that you guys lost touch…” 

Regulus was shocked and enraged. “Oh, poor Sirius! How will he go on? Well, you can tell that traitor that if he was truly _sorry,_ he’d have come to me himself, not had his replacement family do it for him! Or better yet, he’d have had the balls to come talk to me a year ago when this whole mess started. So, you tell dear Sirius that I’m sorry his guilt has finally caught up with him, but he can take his guilt and shove up it up his—”

“Stop!” James interrupted. “Don’t you understand how hard it was on him? He’s only just come to terms with being disowned. He thought he’d put you in danger by talking to you himself. He didn’t want your mum and dad to hurt you.” 

Regulus remembered the threats his mother and father had made before he returned to school last year, warning him against having any contact with his disgraced brother. 

_“We will know...”_

James seized Regulus’s moment of pause as an opportunity to continue. “He’s fine, now. But he…he’s seen how you’ve changed since he left. We can all see it. He’s afraid that you’re going down a dark path.” 

Another wave of rage coursed through Regulus’s veins. “Oh yeah? Well you don’t know anything about my life, and neither does he! He went out and found himself a new family. Well, I did the same!” he shouted, not caring about the younger onlookers surrounding him. 

James’s faced contorted. He was angry now too. “You think those Death Eaters are your family? That’s sick, mate. Absolutely sick. Sirius always told me that you were different from old Orion and Wally. He said you didn’t really believe all that pureblood, anti-Muggle shit. But, I guess he was wrong. You’re in just as deep as the rest of them. Spineless. You disgust me, mate.” 

Regulus blanched. “Just— just because I’m in with them doesn’t mean I believe all they have to say. I- I can make my own decisions!” 

Potter scoffed. “Clearly not. You think that old Voldie’s going to let you think for yourself?! Then you’re way too naive to be caught up in this mess! You’re either in or you’re out. This is a war, mate! I know you know what’s on the horizon. And if you choose the side of hatred and bigotry…well…then you’ll get what’s coming.” 

With those scathing words, Potter spun on a heel and stormed back towards his old teammates, leaving Regulus standing there, shocked and confused. Sure, he’d been having some doubts but…He was where he belonged, wasn’t he? His mind raced. His cheeks burned with shame. What did Potter know, anyway?

Turning down a corridor into the castle, he ran into Ginger, whose hair was now putrid green. She was covered with flecks of something dark and wet. 

“What happened to you?” Regulus asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I heard Lewis use the Dark Lord’s name in the hall. So, I hexed that Mudblood friend of hers, Bode. Used one of Severus’s old curses. It worked wonderfully—he’s in the hospital wing now. But, Lewis got me with this jinx before I could get away. It’s not too bad, though. Avery reckons he can fix it right up. Those little Muggle lovers don’t have the balls to do anything serious! Pathetic!” She cackled. Regulus found it to be a shrill, ugly sound. He realized the dark spatters peppering Ginger’s face and robes were specks of blood. His head pounded. He felt like he was going to vomit. 

“I’ve gotta go.” Regulus spun around and quickly walked away from Ginger and the Slytherin Common Room. 

Regulus aimlessly wandered about the castle, reflecting on Potter’s words. He had always told himself he wasn’t as bigoted or as prejudiced as his friends. He had attempted to justify his involvement with the Death Eaters by blaming others; but Sirius hadn’t given into the pressure like Regulus had. Besides, Regulus had wanted a family, he had wanted people who accepted him for who he was. But, did they accept him? Or, did they only want him among their ranks because of his prominent, Pureblood status? He remembered when they had approached him during first year. 

_“We know enough about you…”_ What had they known, really?

Back then, Regulus had refused. He had felt that he had higher moral principles. Sure, he had been raised by his parents to hate and fear Muggles. But Regulus had never personally believed Muggles and Muggleborns were less than human. He hadn’t then… did he now? He thought of the boy Ginger had sent to the hospital, just for fun. He felt sickened by himself. How had he let himself end up here? 

\---

The rest of the week dragged on. Regulus had become detached and distant. He poured all of his time and energy into his classes. He barely slept. He thought about reaching out to someone, but didn’t know who he would go to for help. He could send an owl…but who would he write? Sirius? They hadn’t spoken in years, what would he even say? Plus, Regulus still harbored some animosity towards his brother for abandoning him. James? Not likely after that verbal thrashing. Regulus would be too embarrassed. And they had never quite gotten on, even before Sirius’s flight. He racked his brain. He barely knew anyone outside of his Death Eater circle, now. Dejectedly, he plopped himself on his bed and pressed his fingers over his eyelids, trying to block the oncoming migraine. Quidditch practice tonight was going to be a pain. 

Quidditch…McDrew! That was it! He would talk to McDrew. Regulus knew he could trust his fellow seventh year. Cheered up slightly, he grabbed his broom and Quidditch bag and headed to down the pitch, hoping to catch his captain there before the others arrived. 

Sure enough, the Slytherin Captain had also arrived early and was currently pouring over a strategy book in the locker room as Regulus walked in. Engrossed, McDrew didn’t notice his entrance. Regulus coughed, and the boy looked up. 

“Oh, hey Black! Didn’t realize you’d be here this early. I was just reading up on some new moves I want us to try.” 

Regulus forced an awkward smile, suddenly extremely nervous and shy. McDrew noticed something was off. 

“You alright, mate?” 

Regulus sighed. This was his opening. “Can…can I ask you something?”

McDrew raised an eyebrow, confused. “Sure.” 

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” 

A prolonged silence filled the room. McDrew considered his answer, deep in thought. “To tell you the truth, mate, I don’t think anyone is really a bad person. I think people make bad choices, especially when they’re lost or confused. But, deep down, I don’t believe anyone can survive without a little bit of good in them.” 

“That was philosophical.” 

McDrew laughed. “Yeah, I suppose it was.” He became serious again. “But, I think it’s true. Look, Regulus, I don’t pretend to know everything about you. But, I spent my fair share of time around your brother and his friends, so I’ve heard things. Heard things about what it’s like living with your parents, with all of that pressure, with some of their…disciplinary methods…”

Regulus paled and averted his gaze. 

“…And I think growing up like that would be enough to send anyone over the deep end. Considering all you went through, you seem pretty sane to me. But, I think you’re lost. You’re angry. You’re scared. And, I think that’s caused you to make some bad decisions. To fall in with some bad people. I know it’s hard. In Slytherin, there’s this expectation to follow exactly what old Salazar used to say. ‘Purebloods first, Muggles are scum,’ that sort of thing. I, myself, think that’s all bullshit. Sure, I’ve made some enemies, especially among those whom you consider to be your friends. At the end of the day, though, I see it as my duty to speak up. To go against the grain, to prove that all that rhetoric is troll dung. There comes a point where you’ve got to make a choice about who you want to be. And, I think it seems like you’re at that point. So, mate, if you decide that you don’t want to continue down whatever path you’re currently on, you know where to find me. Me and my friends’ll gladly take you in. Don’t let the fear of being alone—of making others angry—ruin your own life.” McDrew smiled. “You’re a good bloke, Reg. I just think you’ve lost your way.” 

Regulus fought back the pricking of tears in his eyes. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear those words. All he had wanted was to be loved and accepted. Yet, so far, all love in his life—from his family, from his friends—had been conditional. The fear of losing their love had caused Regulus to conform, to become a person he barely recognized. But, here he was, sitting in the musty Quidditch locker room, presented with a way out. A way to rediscover himself and become a better person. Energized by the prospect of this new life, he broke into a wide grin. He heard the rest of the team coming down into the changing rooms. 

“Practice is starting, I guess,” Regulus said. “Maybe we can talk more at breakfast tomorrow?”

McDrew smiled crookedly. “Of course, mate! I’ll look forward to it!”


	5. Misery Loves Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus tries to make new friends, and learns some surprising secrets about an old acquaintance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: **CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF PAST ALCOHOL ABUSE! END OF CHAPTER!**
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter! Hope you all like it! Thanks so much for the kind reviews, and thank you to my amazing beta @leah-ravenanne !
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

_September 13th, 1978_

The next morning, Regulus left the Slytherin dorms early to avoid any undesired interactions. He made his way to the Great Hall to find McDrew. When Regulus arrived, he scanned the long house tables for a sign of the beefy Quidditch Captain. 

Regulus finally spotted McDrew sitting halfway down the Slytherin Table with a couple of other students. McDrew noticed him staring. 

“Oi, Black! C’mon, I’ve saved you a seat!” He gave a great wave and a large, goofy grin. Regulus sat down awkwardly. 

“Here, Reg, let me introduce you to some of my friends. They’re not all Slytherins, but, then again, not everyone can be so lucky.” he laughed, cheekily. 

“Can it, Woody!” The dark, curly-haired girl sitting across from him rolled her eyes. She glanced at Regulus warily. Regulus had a feeling that McDrew had instructed his friends to be nice. 

“I’m Wilhelmina Young. Hufflepuff,” she introduced herself hesitantly. 

“Oh yeah. You’re in my year,” said Regulus. “We had Care of Magical Creatures together.” 

Wilhelmina nodded, warming up a bit. “I didn’t know if you’d remember. We were partners when we had to take care of that nasty Flobberworm in 3rd year.” 

Regulus cringed at the memory. 

“And you know Marlene McKinnon, I’m sure. She’s a Gryffindor.” McDrew continued the introductions, gesturing to the pretty blonde girl on his right.

Marlene narrowed her eyes. Regulus gulped. He was quite aware of Marlene’s feelings towards him. “Yeah, we’ve met,” said Marlene. “Although, I’m more familiar with your brother. He and I were…close…for a bit.” Marlene grinned while the rest of the crew cracked up. Regulus didn’t know how to respond to that. Sirius had been quite...active...before he’d realized his true affections for fellow Gryffindor Remus Lupin. Regulus wondered if they were still together. 

Marlene stared at him once again, sizing him up. “Well, I guess you’re alright. As long as you don’t go around preaching about the ‘Noble and Most Ancient House of Wankers’, we’ll get along fine.” 

The girl sitting next to her chuckled and kissed her cheek. Regulus recognized her as fellow Slytherin Dorcas Meadowes. “Wotcher.” Dorcas nodded in greeting. “Sorry, ‘bout my girlfriend. She doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.” 

Marlene playfully shoved her back and exclaimed, “You weren’t complaining about that at Madame Puddifoot’s last week!” The table erupted in laughter again, and Regulus joined them. He was shocked by how easily Marlene and the others had accepted him. Maybe things were looking up. Maybe, this whole turning his life around thing wouldn’t be so hard. 

Just then, Regulus saw Woodrow wave towards the Great Hall Entrance. “Ah, here they are, late as always.”

Regulus looked over his shoulder to see who had arrived. His heart dropped. Three Ravenclaws were walking towards them. Two boys—one of whom Regulus recognized as George Fleet, the other he didn’t know—and one girl. A tall, brown-haired girl with clear plastic glasses and a fiery expression plastered on her face. Desdemona. 

The three newcomers sat. Desdemona glared. 

“Oi, Woody. I thought you were joking when you said Black’d be joining us,” Desdemona said, pretending as if Regulus wasn’t there. 

McDrew shot Regulus an apologetic look. “Des, c’mon. He wants to change. We’re gonna help him!” 

Desdemona huffed. “‘Wants to change,’ my arse! You know what his lot did just a few days ago? That little girlfriend of his hexed Broderick in the middle of the hallway for no bloody reason! Called ‘im a Mudblood!” She gestured to the boy sitting next to her, who suddenly became very interested in his bowl of porridge. Broderick was clearly not in the mood for confrontation, or for Desdemona’s angry tirade. 

Regulus quickly defended himself. “I didn’t know anything about that! And, anyways, you turned Ginger’s hair green. You got her back.” 

Desdemona pounded her fist on the table, causing silverware to fly into the air. “OH RIGHT! BRODERICK HAD TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL WING! But, my, my, I’m _so_ sorry poor little miss Death Eater Queen had to suffer with green hair for a few hours. Poor baby!” 

People around them had begun to stare. McDrew put a hand on the tall girl’s shoulder. “Listen, if Reg says he wasn’t involved, he wasn’t involved. I believe him. And you more than anyone should respect the fact that he’s trying to turn over a new leaf. As long as that’s the case, we’re going to help him do it. Understand?” 

She looked like she wanted to retort, but thought better of it. She nodded, frowning, and muttered under her breath, “Fine.” Desdemona glared at McDrew, but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned to Wilhelmina. “Can you pass the toast?” 

The group of friends let out a collective breath of relief. Regulus got the feeling that McDrew was the leader of this little gang. At any rate, anyone who could convince Desdemona Lewis to tolerate Regulus was impressive. 

\---

After the meal ended, Regulus, Broderick, Desdemona, and Wilhelmina headed down to the dungeons for Potions. The atmosphere was still tense and a bit awkward.

“So,” Regulus said, trying to break the tension, “What d’you think Slughorn’ll have us make today?”

“I don’t like you, Black,” Desdemona snapped, not even looking at him. 

“You don’t like anyone, Des,” Wilhelmina replied casually. Broderick laughed. Desdemona pouted. 

“I just have high standards, that’s all,” she said haughtily. 

“High standards? Is that what they’re calling ‘being a judgmental bitch’ nowadays?” Wilelmina teased back.

Regulus cracked a smile, but his amusement seemed to really set Desdemona off. Broderick stepped in front of her to try and hold her back. “Des,” he said in a soothing, deep voice. “Remember what Woodrow said? We’re trying to help Regulus. He doesn’t want to be like the rest of those Death Eaters anymore. He wants to change. Remember, Woodrow told us. We have to be empathetic. We have to understand.” 

“Understand? I understand! I understand that his little cult wants to eradicate Muggle culture! They don’t think people like you and me deserve to be at Hogwarts, because my mum’s a Muggle, or because I can’t prove my dad was a wizard, or because I was raised by Muggles or whatever! And I’m supposed to just accept that he’s changed? I may be judgmental and choosy about who I trust, but it’s for good reason! Because if we put our trust in the wrong person, we could end up dead!” 

Desdemona stormed off ahead of them, leaving Regulus feeling as awful as ever. Despite his dislike of Desdemona’s unpleasant attitude towards him, she was completely justified. She had every right to hate Regulus. Was he being an idiot? Was it really possible for him to cut ties with his past, when his past involved such hurt and pain? 

Broderick patted him on the back. “Hey, mate. I’m Muggleborn, and I still have faith you can change. If we don’t allow people from You-Know-Who’s side to change their minds and join us, we’ll never win the war. It’s just Des. You know, she’s got quite a temper and, between you and me, a ton of anxiety. She’ll come around, though. And I can tell, you’re not as off-your-rocker as that Ginger chick.” 

Regulus was shocked at how kind of a person Broderick was—how kind all of McDrew’s friends were. Here Regulus was, asking them to accept him despite the awful people he’d aligned himself with, despite the awful things he had done. And they were willing to give him a second chance he knew he didn’t remotely deserve.

Regulus forced a small smile, still considering how he was ever going to fit in with this new group. 

\---

Despite a rocky start, Regulus’s attempts to gain new friends had been growing more and more successful with each passing day. By the end of the week, Regulus had taken to studying in the library with Broderick during their free periods, had accompanied Woodrow and Marlene on an adventure to visit the House Elves in the Kitchens, and had even managed to have a thirty second conversation with Desdemona that had not ended in screaming or cursing. 

By Friday night, Regulus whistled happily in his dorm while he put gel in his hair before the year’s first Slug Club dinner. He had felt freer and happier than he had in a long time. 

As Regulus strolled towards Slughorn’s office, he heard a strange whimpering. Curious, he followed the noises down an unfamiliar corridor, where he discovered their source—Desdemona. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, quietly crying. She was dressed up for Slughorn’s party, in a midnight blue dress and silver shoes. However, her makeup was running down her face, ruining the aesthetic. Her fingers were tapping noticeably at her side. Regulus was about to back away from the scene when she looked up and noticed him watching. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“What the bloody hell are you looking at?” 

“Um, I was just…going…I’ll leave you to it,” Regulus sputtered. He felt a pang of regret in his chest. Sure, he and Desdemona mixed about as well as oil and water. Sure, they had been hellbent on outcompeting and insulting each other for six years now. However, in the moment, she seemed vulnerable. He sighed, sure he would regret his next decision. But, he was trying to turn over a new leaf. And that included rectifying his past mistakes. Maybe, this could be a start. 

Slowly, he approached her and slid down the wall, taking a seat onto the cool stone floor beside her. He awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Er…everything ok?” He winced at his tactlessness. Clearly everything was not okay.

For a moment, Regulus thought Des was going to snap at him. Then, her face melted and she took a deep breath. “Do you really want to know?” She asked, leaning her head back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. She tapped her fingers together more rapidly. Regulus didn’t quite know how to respond, so he simply nodded his head, inviting her to continue.

“My mum. She…ah…she died.” 

Regulus’s heart sank for her. He was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say to comfort the girl? “Oh. Sorry,” was all he could muster. 

She shook her head and laughed emptily. “No. I shouldn’t be shocked. In fact, it’s a surprise it took her this long.” 

“Was she sick?” Regulus asked. 

“In a way.” Des furrowed her brow, as if considering whether to divulge any more private information. “I guess I can tell you. Since I’ve been ordered to be your ‘friend’ now.”

“I’ll ignore the sarcasm,” Regulus quipped, hoping to put her more at ease. 

“What a shame,” she replied. After a brief pause, she continued: “My aunt always says it’s best to share your thoughts and emotions. ‘Don’t let yourself be controlled by them.’ I tell her that’s bullshit. If people knew half the things that went on inside my head…” 

She paused, stopping herself. “Well, anyways,” said Desdemona, returning to the story. “My mum kind of…lost it…when my dad died. She had run away to the States to be with him. Given up everything. The family hardly approved, but she was head over heels. Hippies, the pair of them. Hence the name,” she gestured to herself. 

Regulus chuckled. “Oh right. Desdemona Rain.”

“Awful, isn’t it? Anyways, dad died—I don’t know how, none of my family does. Mum wouldn’t tell them. After that, she brought me back to England. She started drinking. A lot. And then, one day, she left me with my aunt and uncle while she went to the store, and she never came back. I hadn’t heard from her in over ten years. Last my aunt had known, she was in some sort of rehab center up north. She…she didn’t want to see any of us…she didn’t want me to visit…” Desdemona took another deep breath. “The center…they—they called Aunt Eliza yesterday and said she had been released, then relapsed and OD’ed. I just found out.” 

Regulus watched her as she attempted to steady her shaky breath. “I’m sorry. Do you…do you want me to walk you back to your dorm or something?” 

“No, no,” she said, “Please don’t be nice to me. It makes me feel pathetic when you’re nice to me.”

Regulus laughed lightly.

“And besides,” she continued, wiping the makeup from under her eyes and smoothing her dress, “I can’t very well go back knowing that you’ll be hogging the time of whatever influential person Slughorn has brought for us this evening! Git.” Pulling out a small pocket mirror, she examined her reflection and dabbed away the remaining black streaks on her cheeks. 

Regulus stood and hesitantly offered a hand to Desdemona. To his surprise, she took it and pulled herself up. Regulus awkwardly dropped her hand and spoke. “I’m sorry, Desdemona. Truly. I know that the things I’ve said and the people I’ve associated with in the past have hurt you. I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry. I like to tell myself that I never really believed those things, that I was trying to fit in and make my family proud. But, I didn’t try to stop it. And any pain I’ve caused you—directly or indirectly…You don’t deserve to be bullied or put down because of who your parents were or how you were raised. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll say this: you’re an amazing witch. Probably better than any of the rest of us.” 

“Wow. Can I get that in writing?” She joked. Then, seriously, she said, “Please, call me Des. I think I can allow it, seeing as you’ve unlocked a piece of my tragic backstory. I expect you to return the favor someday.” 

“Come on, we’re already running late. Let’s go…Des.”


	6. Secrets, Secrets, Are No Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus tries to run from his past. The problem is, it’s getting harder and harder to stay in the race.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: Ahhhh I loved writing this chapter so much! As a proud Ravenclaw, writing a scene in the Ravenclaw Common Room was such a treat. I 100% believe that it would be an absolute mess with a million different things happening (s/o to all of my super creative, mind-wandering, have-a-billion-projects-going-on-all-at-once Ravenclaws). Also, I have head canons that students who were friends from different houses could bring each other to their own common rooms, since we see Luna bring Harry into the Ravenclaw one in book 7. I mean, besides the password, they don’t seem that heavily guarded…Anyways…hope you enjoy this bit of the story. Thank you so much to everyone who reviews this, it means so much :) Also as always, shout out to my amazing beta reader @leah-ravenanne. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

_October 4th, 1978_

“Merlin’s balls. I swear, if McGonagall makes us write any more essays, my hand’ll fall right off!” Des plopped down at the dinner table dramatically. “You finish it yet, Reg?” 

“No, not yet. _Someone_ has scheduled Quidditch practice every night this week, so I haven’t had the time.” He jerked his head towards Woodrow, who looked offended. 

“Oi! If you wanna get our arses handed to us by this lot—” he gestured to Des and George, “—then please be my guest. Because if you thought they were insufferable before, just wait until you lose to them at Quidditch.” 

“Aw, listen to this, Dezzie,” George said, feigning sincerity, “McDrew actually thinks he stands a chance!” The Ravenclaw Chasers laughed heartily. Regulus pretended to brood with McDrew. 

October was just beginning, which meant Quidditch season was a little less than a month away. Despite the daunting prospect of playing Ravenclaw in their first match, Regulus had never been happier. The past two weeks had been the best of his life. Ever since their conversation in the corridor before the Slug Club, Des had put forth her best efforts to be friendlier towards him, and Regulus was working hard to return the favor. Turns out, her temper was as quick to fall as it was to rise. And Regulus was glad, because when they weren’t hurling insults at each other, he and Des had a lot in common. They shared the same sarcastic sense of humor—although Des was much louder and more outspoken—and they had also discovered that they were perfect study partners. Des’s mind worked in creative ways, which complimented Regulus’s analytical nature. Together, their grades both benefited from their newfound friendship.

Nowadays, most of Regulus’s afternoons were spent with Des, McDrew, and the others in the library. This new arrangement also allowed him to avoid Mulciber and his old friends. He had no idea what he would say to them and naively hoped that they would forget he ever existed. He should have known he would never be so lucky. 

“Black! What’re you up to?” Mulciber yelled one day as he chased Regulus down in the hallway on his way to Transfiguration. 

“Oh, nothing,” Regulus vaguely responded. He continued to walk to class, trying to lose Ed in the crowd of passing students. Sadly, Mulciber managed to expertly weave through bodies to keep up with him.

“Nothing? I haven’t seen you for weeks! None of us have! You’ve never been this busy, mate.”

Regulus started the panic. What was he going to say? The Dark Mark on his left arm ached. He couldn’t tell if it was his imagination. “You know, NEWT levels are just really keeping me hard at work. Plus Quidditch.” 

Mulciber’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah... _Quidditch_. We’ve seen you hanging out with McDrew and his band of misfits. What’re you playing at?” 

“I…I…” Regulus stammered, racking his brain for a convincing lie to feed his former friend. Of the multitude of Slytherin qualities he possessed, he’d always been a dreadful liar.

“Is this some assignment for the Dark Lord? Is that why you’re being all secretive, and hanging around with Mudlboods and blood traitors?” Ed questioned him. 

Thank Merlin, a perfect excuse! Luckily, Regulus’s old mate hadn’t exactly been the brightest deluminator in the drawer. “Yes, that’s it! Very secret. I’ve been sworn to…secrecy. Undercover…plotting…stuff.” 

“Oh.” Mulciber’s face fell. “Well, I guess I should’ve known once you made it to the Big Leagues you’d forget all the rest of us. See you around, Reg,” Mulciber said. 

Regulus almost felt sorry for him. Ed had seemed so dejected. Regulus rubbed his still aching arm. He hadn’t told any of his new friends just how deeply he had been involved with the Death Eaters. Regulus had been searching on his own for a way to get rid of the tattoo, but to no avail. And Regulus couldn’t exactly walk up to a professor to ask for their advice. The Dark Mark was highly illegal and would have gotten him thrown in Azkaban for sure. He laughed bitterly, thinking of his jealous ex-friends who would have killed to be chosen by the Dark Lord at sixteen. What he wouldn’t give to trade places with any of them now. He’d cut off his arm and hand it to any one of them, just to be rid of the ghastly Dark Mark. 

Suddenly, Des materialized beside Regulus, shaking him from his worries. She grinned and continued to teased him. “You know, you get a little crease in between your eyebrows when you’re thinking that makes you look like an old man. Just there,” she tapped her own forehead to demonstrate. “What’s on your mind, grumpy? Still afraid we’re gonna kick your butts in the match Saturday?” 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he remarked, unenthusiastically. Des raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. 

“Well, you should be. We’re fantastic,” she prattled away nonchalantly, and Regulus’s anxieties melted away as he listened to her animated voice. He was grateful for her distraction.

\---

With the first match of the Quidditch season rapidly approaching, McDrew forced his team to practice for hours each night. Consequently, Regulus was struggling to keep up with his work. After class on Thursday, when he had a few hours break before Quidditch, he headed to the library to work on a project for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sitting down at a solitary table, he heaved open his massive volume of _Dark and Foule: A NEWT Level Guide to Defensive Magic_ , and began searching for material he could use. His thoughts swam lazily in his mind as he fruitlessly attempted to read the first line of a paragraph. 

_“When battling the dreaded Inferi, undead creatures whose bodies have been resurrected via dark magic to serve their master’s purpose, one must remember the power of light…”_

Nothing sank in. Regulus read again, pinching his arm to focus. 

_“When battling the dreaded Inferi, undead creatures whose bodies have been resurrected via dark magic…”_

His head ached. His eyelids were heavy. He weaved his hands into his dark hair and yanked hard, hoping the pain would wake him up. What had he just read? Something, something, dark magic? He tried again and again to absorb the words on the paper. 

_“When battling the dreaded Inferi, undead…”_

_“When battling the dreaded Inferi…”_

_“When…”_

“Reg! Oi, Reg! You alright?” A voice shouted at him. Regulus bolted upright, unsure of where he was. He frantically looked around, panicking. Oh right, the library. He had been in the library. He felt the side of his face. It was wet. He saw a small puddle of drool on the open pages of his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. He ran a hand through his dark hair, which now stuck up oddly on one side of his head. Next to him, Broderick Bode was staring, concerned. 

“I think you fell asleep, mate,” said Broderick.

Regulus stifled a yawn. “What time is it?” 

“4:30 in the afternoon.” 

Regulus breathed a sigh of relief. Practice was at 6:30. He hadn’t slept through it. Then, he looked down at his blank parchment and remembered why he was in the library in the first place. 

“Oh Merlin.” Regulus put his head in his hands.

Broderick chuckled. “Defense Against the Dark Arts project got you down? I’ve already started, but I was just about to work on it more. Wanna work together?” 

“Seriously? Yes!” Regulus was grateful for the offer. He needed all the help he could get. For some reason, this new unit on _Inferi_ just wasn’t sinking in. 

“Alright. Oh damn! I forgot my work! Come with me to get it? We can work in the Ravenclaw Common Room for a bit. The library’s a bit stuffy, anyways.” As if to emphasize Broderick’s point, Madame Pince approached them and whispered _“shhhhhhhhhhhhhh”_ very loudly into Regulus’s ear. He disdainfully wiped the spit from his cheek. 

“Sure, why not?” He quickly gathered up his books and accompanied Broderick to Ravenclaw Tower. 

As the boys approached the Ravenclaw House Entrance, Regulus wondered if he would even be allowed to enter. He’d never been into any other common rooms before. 

“You sure it’s ok if I go in with you?” 

“Of course! Don’t worry! Marls, Dorcas, Will, and Woodrow have been in here loads of times.” At the top of the spiral staircase they had been climbing, Broderick stopped and approached a plain wooden door with a bronze eagle door-knocker. He knocked once. 

Regulus almost fell down the stairs in fright when he heard the door-knocker begin to speak. In a soft, soothing voice, it asked: _“What creature walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?”_

Broderick rolled his eyes. “Aw, it’s given us an easy one today.” He turned to the door-knocker and replied. “A human.” The door swung open, and Regulus followed his friend inside. 

The Ravenclaw Common Room would have been quite pretty if it weren’t such an unbridled mess. Bookshelves lined the walls, but almost the entirety of their contents seemed to be scattered across the atrium. Several books lay open—some in front of focused students, some abandoned. An entire table in the middle of the room was covered in maps of some place that Regulus did not recognize. A skeleton stood erect on a rolling podium, its body supported by a metal pole. The bones had peeling labels sticking off of them, and someone had stuck a stuffed, cartoonish version of a human heart in its chest. The heart had big, adorable, animated eyes that looked freakishly out of place peering through the ribcage. On yet another table lay a partially-disassembled grandfather clock, with springs poking out of the back. Sunlight gleamed through round, stained-glass windows, reflecting multicolored patterns onto the white marble walls. Blue banners draped the room. Near the back of the room stood a grand statue of who Regulus assumed was Rowena Ravenclaw, made of the same white marble as the rest of the room. Two staircases curled around either side of the statue, which boys and girls climbed up and down as they chatted with one another. 

“Broderick!” Regulus heard a voice call out. “Over here!” 

The boys navigated their way through a gaggle of third years arguing over a diagram of a bowtruckle (“no, the head is _here_!”) and found Wilhelmina splayed out on a couch, reading her book on Ancient Runes. She smiled when she saw them. “Oh hi, Reg! They’ve finally gotten you up here? It’s nice, isn’t it? I love the Hufflepuff Common Room, but sometimes it’s depressing being in the basement. It’s so…airy up here!” 

“A bit of a mess, though, isn’t it?” Regulus asked, sending a pointed look in Broderick’s direction. 

He held his hands up defensively. “Hey! They say wisdom flourishes in chaos…or something like that.” He waved his arms dismissively. “I don’t know…it’s always clean in the mornings.” 

“Wow.” Regulus laughed.

“These Ravenclaws are a bunch of nutters, if you ask me! _‘Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure,_ ’” Wilhelmina mocked in a sing-song voice. “Speaking of nutters, that’s the reason I’m here. This one’s invited me to _‘experience her process._ ’’’ Wilhelmina gestured to a large object behind which Des, who Regulus hadn’t noticed until this moment, peaked out. 

She was wearing a baggy canvas smock covered in paint stains and had a black beret set askew on top of her brown mess of curls. 

Broderick groaned. “Not this nonsense again, Dezzie. She’s always picking up these sorts of projects,” he added, for Regulus’s benefit.

Des sighed dramatically. “Oh, ye of little faith. When the creative urge hits, you must follow it in any direction it takes you! And you know, some philosophers thought art was the truest form of knowledge.” 

“Yeah?” Broderick raised his eyebrows, amused. “Which philosophers, then, if you’re so smart?” 

Des hesitated. “I…that’s not the point! The point is, I’m learning a new skill! Would it kill you all to be supportive?” 

Wilhelmina chimed in, “I’m trying to be supportive, Des! I’m supporting you by telling you that you’re rubbish at painting and should spend your time trying to cultivate some of your many other talents!” 

Regulus and his friends bust out laughing. He recognized the large object Des was standing beside as an art easel. In one hand, Des held one of those oversized painter’s palettes, and in the other, a wood-handled paintbrush. 

Curiously, Regulus edged around the canvas to examine her piece. Des attempted to block his path. 

“C’mon, Des, let’s have a look, then.” Regulus smirked. 

“No! I mean, it’s not finished yet!”

Regulus swiftly placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her around so that he was now closest to the painting. When he laid eyes on the work in progress, he was speechless. It was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen! The colors clashed horrendously, and most had muddled together into a hideous shade of brown. The central figure looked like it was melting off the page. Some patches had been extremely watered down, while others had been applied way too thick. It resembled something a toddler would have finger painted. He glanced over at Wilhelmina and Broderick, doing his best to suppress a smile. 

“Well?” Des asked anxiously. “What d’you think? I’m self-taught, you know!” 

“I can certainly see that…” And the three friends lost all composure. Des feigned hurt, though Regulus could tell she was stifling a smile of her own. 

“Some friends you are! Not supporting my art! Wankers.” She playfully shoved Regulus.

Everyone laughed even more. Regulus patted her arm. 

“Oh no, Des, don’t be like that. It’s great. I really like…the ambiance.” 

Des pouted. “Maybe I should take up woodworking, instead,” she pondered. When the laughter finally died down, Regulus noticed he was still holding onto Des’s arm. He let go. Was she blushing?

As he dropped his arm, his sleeve shifted position. “What’s that on your arm?” Des asked, curiously leaning in to get a closer look. She grabbed at his left wrist.

Regulus hastily yanked his arm away from her grip and held it close to his chest. “Nothing!” He said, a bit too quickly. Broderick and Wilhelmina also looked curious. 

“It’s…nothing. Just a scar. It’s pretty gross. I try to keep it covered. I—I don’t like to think about it.” 

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” Des looked genuinely apologetic. Good. She had believed him. “I’m so nosy! Ask anyone! I shouldn’t pry into your personal business like that. I’m sorry!” She rambled. 

“No, it’s fine. Just, not something I want to talk about.” He pretended to check the time. Although he had an hour before Quidditch Practice, he decided to leave before he was forced to lie to his new friends further. “Look at the time! I’d better run. I like to get ready with McDrew before practice. I’ll see you all tomorrow!” Regulus turned and walked away. 

“What about the project?” Broderick shouted. 

“Ah…I’ll work on it tonight. Thanks for the offer to help, though.” 

As he made his way through the Ravenclaw Common Room door, he heard Broderick say, “Nice going, Des.” 

“I’m sorry!”

Regulus’s heart sank. His forearm ached, and he was sure he wasn’t imagining it this time. Regulus wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue to run from his old life. So far, he’d had it easy. Surely, he would have to face major consequences for his past mistakes sooner or later.


	7. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October flies by as Regulus feels more and more at home amongst his new group of friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the week-long hiatus, but to make up for it, I'm posting TWO chapters today! Yay! I'm very excited to show you all what's coming. Thank you all SO MUCH for the wonderful reviews! They make me so happy and inspire me to keep writing! Also, shout out to my fabulous beta reader @leahstypewriter.

_October 6th, 1978_

Two days had passed since the “incident,” aka the moment when Regulus almost revealed his deepest, darkest secret to the public in the middle of the Ravenclaw Common Room. Regulus had kept more to himself, trying to recover from his bout of anxiety and shame. However, Regulus’s new friends were not about to let him wallow.

“Regulus!” Des sprinted after him in the hallway one day, chasing him down. Regulus slowed to allow Des to catch up. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she panted. “Listen, I’m really, really sorry if I upset you. You know…with…” Des gestured to his arm. Regulus rubbed it, self-consciously.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Regulus, feeling a pang of guilt for lying to her. 

“You sure?” Des asked. “I feel bad…I wasn’t trying to be nasty or pry. I know we’ve gotten off to a rocky start but I really have been trying—”

“Yeah. Let’s just forget it,” he said hastily. “Friends?” He stuck out his hand.

“Friends,” Des agreed, shaking it. She looked relieved. “I never thought I’d say this but—I kinda missed having you around. You headed to lunch?” 

“Yep. You?” 

Des nodded. She linked her arm through his and skipped along, yanking Regulus forward. “Hi ho, hi ho, let’s go!” Des sang.

Regulus laughed. “Wow, glad to know how miserable your life was without me.” 

“Oh, dear Regulus,” Des proclaimed in an exaggeratedly plummy voice. “T’was as if the stars had been extinguished from the night sky. The moon, then sun, blackened—”

“That’s beautiful,” Regulus joked. “Is poetry your next great undertaking?” 

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about it before…but if you reckon I’m that good…” 

Regulus widened his eyes in mock horror. Des barked out a laugh. “Ha, the look on your face! Don’t worry, I’ll spare you from my poems…for now…” 

“Eh, with some practice, I’m sure you’ll be the next Beedle the Bard. Better than your painting, anyways.” He smirked. 

“I’m sorry? What was that? It couldn’t have been an insult.” 

“No, of course not. You’re a real prodigy in everything you do.” 

“That’s better.” 

The two of them devolved into a larger fit of laughter, stumbling arm-in-arm down the corridor towards the Great Hall. 

\---

October was in full swing. Between classes, Quidditch, and hanging out with his new friends, Regulus barely had time to think. But, he preferred it that way. He was fully and completely distracted from outside worries. Though, he was starting to become a bit (okay, more than a bit) sleep deprived. 

“You know what’s really depressing?” Regulus lay sprawled out on a couch in the Ravenclaw Common Room, tossing a green apple up in the air. It was well past midnight, and he’d since given up on his Transfiguration essay. He was giddy with exhaustion. 

“Your wardrobe?” Des replied, sarcastically, not looking up from her textbook. 

“Ha ha ha. Very funny.” 

“Just being honest! It’s all black! Maybe throw in a green or a blue every once in a while! It’d make your eyes pop.” 

“You know, some girls quite fancy the whole ‘dark and twisty’ look.” Regulus lolled his head to the side, smirking. 

“Oh sorry. I didn’t know we were counting Ginger as a ‘girl.’ I figured she was still ‘Satan’s Mistress’, as you so eloquently called her the other day.” Des grinned back. 

“Details, details. But, my insanely good looks—I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that laugh—are beside the point. Fine. I guess you don’t want to hear what I have to say.” Regulus sighed, dramatically, à-la-Des. Des closed her book and slid from her chair onto the blue-carpeted floor, sitting cross-legged like a child ready for story time. 

“Fine. Tell me, Reg. What’s got you down?” 

“I don’t want to tell you now. You’ll just make fun of me.” 

“C’mon...tell meeeee,” Des whined playfully. “I pinky promise I’ll take you seriously.” 

“Pinky promise?” 

“It’s a Muggle thing. Only the most serious of Muggle oaths are sworn upon the pinky promise.” Des stuck out her right pinky finger and wiggled it. “Now, you stick out yours.” Regulus obeyed, chuckling as Des wrapped her pinky around his and shook it, solemnly. “There. More binding than an unbreakable vow.” 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Regulus yawned, stretching his legs over the edge of the couch. He set his apple down on the end table and folded his arms behind his head. 

“Pleeeeease Regulus? Pretty please? Tell me what’s on your mind, mate. Let it all out.” Des giggled, clearly also feeling the effects of the lack of sleep.

Regulus pretended to ponder for a moment. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I’ve realized.” He looked at Des, seriously. She mirrored his expression. “I just think it’s really depressing that snakes don’t have arms.” He rolled over onto his side and laughed hysterically. Des stared incredulously. 

“Go to bed, Regulus.”

\---

The days continued to speed by, and Regulus continued to enjoy the company of his friends.

“What words would you use to describe me?” Des asked the gang one mid-October morning during breakfast. She was staring intently at a piece of parchment, quill in hand. “It’s for my Healer Training Application. ‘What are three words your closest friends would use to describe you?’”

“Batshit,” Wil said immediately. 

“Creative. Curious. Passionate,” said McDrew. 

“Loud,” Marlene groaned, head in hands. “C’mon Des, it’s not even 8am.” 

“Hey, sleepyhead, it’s not her fault you and the Gryffindor gang decided to drink your weight in firewhiskey last night!” Dorcas laughed while pouring her girlfriend a glass of water. 

“Merlin, Marlene, that’s hardcore for a school night.” Regulus whistled, impressed. 

“Ok, first of all, not funny, Wil,” Des sent a pointed look in the Hufflepuff’s direction. “Second, thank you for taking this seriously Woodrow. And third, I’m offended you lot had a thirsty Thursday and didn’t invite me, Marls.” 

Marlene just shook her head and gulped down some water. “Be grateful.” 

“Hey, I kind of like this idea,” said Wil. “Words to describe each other: go!” 

“Why the hell are we doing ice breakers?” asked Dorcas. “We’ve known each other for 7 years!” 

“Alright, so Dorcas’s word is ‘critical,’” Wil pouted. 

“Fine. Then your word is ‘bossy,’” Dorcas snapped back.

“Rude.” 

“ _Hufflepuff_.” 

“I’m sorry? Was that a Hufflepuff insult? It’s only 7:56 but I _will_ fight you, Meadowes!” 

“Merlin’s balls, come on you two! Act like ladies!” Des exclaimed irreverently, chuckling. “Dorcas, you’re clearly witty. And Wil, you’re ‘loyal,’ because Merlin knows you didn’t get into Hufflepuff for being nice.” 

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes and made a rude gesture. Des blew her a kiss in return. “Love ya!”

“What about me?” McDrew asked eagerly. 

“Aw Woody, you’re a leader,” said Des. “You’re sweet and kind but not a pushover, you know? You’re the role model!” 

McDrew grinned proudly, as did Regulus. “Absolutely right, Mr. Captain. Lead on!” 

“Broderick is ‘level-headed,’ obviously, because he never loses his temper,” Wil added, clearly having fun. “Marlene is ‘genuine,’ And Georgie’s...hm...Georgie’s gotta be...” 

“Determined?” Regulus supplied a random positive word, amused at Wil’s commitment to the exercise. 

“Yes!” Wil snapped her fingers at him. “Good one! Now, you Reg, you are....” the group paused for a moment to stare at him. Regulus felt suddenly uncomfortable. What were they going to say? 

“Compassionate,” Des said decisively. Everyone turned to stare at her. She had spoken with intense finality. “You really care about other people, Regulus. You want others to be happy. You help people when they’re down...” Des looked at him knowingly. She smiled timidly. “You’re a good addition to the group, Reg.” Regulus felt his insides blossom with warmth. 

“Thanks, Des,” he replied, smiling shyly. 

“Welp!” Des stood abruptly, almost knocking the glasses off of her face. “Time for Defense Against the Dark Arts! Shall we?” 

“Y-yeah. Yes. We should go!” Regulus hastily agreed, gathering his things. He ran a hand through his dark hair. The rest of the group followed their lead, and soon, the gang was on their way to class. 

\---

Halloween was now two days away, which meant Quidditch was three days away, which meant Regulus had absolutely no free time in his schedule. 

This morning had been insanely busy. McDrew had scheduled morning practice, and Regulus had been forced to rush off to Double Charms without breakfast. By the time lunch came around, he was practically sprinting for the Great Hall. In the process, he ran—quite literally—into Des. 

“Woah, Reg, where’s the fire?” 

“Sorry! I’m so hungry I could eat a Hippogriff!” He rushed past her. She sped up to walk with him. 

“Wait up! I’m headed that way, too! Let’s eat!” 

“So,” said Regulus, as he inhaled his food, “what’d you think of Charms today?”

Des’s face lit up with excitement. She dropped her fork and knife with a clatter, causing a few students to look over curiously. “Oh, Reg, it was the coolest! Didn’t you think so? I mean, I know they say the Reductor Curse is all for show and dueling, but, I think it’s so useful! It’s very elegant in its destructiveness. I was thinking that maybe some sort of muted form of the spell could be useful in healing—like clearing blocked vessels or something…Which reminds me, I’ve got to ask Flitwick more about that. You think he’d maybe let me do some kind of extra project with him? I bet that’d look great on my Healer Application…” 

Regulus hung onto her every word. Her enthusiasm was infectious. He grinned wider and wider, eventually forgetting to shove food in his mouth, as he listened to her excitedly make plans. Her eyes were bright, her glasses bounced crookedly on her face, her voice became breathy from speaking so fast. Regulus noticed the rosy tinge in her cheeks, the little dimples that formed on her cheeks…

“Regulus? You ok?” Des asked. She must have stopped talking.

Des looked at him quizzically with those big blue eyes. Regulus gulped, attempting to regain his composure. But, for some damn reason, he was unable to keep his mind from wandering back to Desdemona Lewis. 

Something about her fascinated him. It wasn’t because she was loud or outspoken or (sometimes overly) confident–though he had come to appreciate those qualities in her. No. Regulus’s fascination stemmed from the way she looked at the world. Des seemed to view life as a series of puzzles or challenges. Whenever she was faced with a situation, Regulus could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, analyzing every possible solution. She put the pieces together in ways other people didn’t. She had a passion for understanding—her eyes lit up whenever she learned something new. Her thirst for knowledge was infinite, and her curiosity was contagious. 

Regulus was so used to people in his life being superficial. Most of his family never doubted the beliefs with which they’d been indoctrinated with since birth. They were content to believe what they were told. And, those who dared stretch their minds to think beyond the surface, to consider alternatives to the Black way of life, had been brutally exiled. This taught Regulus how to conform, and had led to some of the worst moments of his life. But, Des never conformed without question. She thought deeply and critically, like a true Ravenclaw. Yes. Regulus was attracted to her mind. Wait…Attracted? Regulus surprised himself with his own choice of words. Was he developing a thing for Des? Surely not. They were friends. Just friends.

“Fine!” Regulus stammered. “Keep going. I think your idea’s great!” And Des set off speaking once more. 

\---

The Halloween Feast was always Regulus’s favorite part of the school year. This year, it was even more of a joyful occasion, because Regulus was in a much better place than he had been in a long time. Today, the houses were forced to sit at their own tables, so Regulus found a spot with Dorcas and McDrew. 

Dumbledore got up and gave his welcoming speech, and the food was served. Across the Hall, Regulus spotted Des at the Ravenclaw Table, laughing with Broderick and George. Des caught Regulus’s eye and waved wildly, smiling at him. Regulus grinned back. 

“Do you think she’s hot?” McDrew asked. 

“W-What? W-who?”

“Gwenog Jones, mate! Keep up!”

“Oh. Oh yeah. I think she’s a pretty good-looking girl,” said Regulus, regaining some dignity. McDrew sighed wistfully. 

“Ah, who am I kidding. She’d never go for a bloke like me.” 

“Hey, you never know mate! You’re a catch!” Regulus tried to cheer up his friend. “Jones could do a lot worse than the Captain of the Slytherin House Team!” 

“Maybe you’re right. Ugh, I’ve tried to ask Des and George what they think, but they can’t really get a read on her. Apparently, she’s all business in the locker room. Man. What a woman.” 

“Woodrow, you’re being so dramatic! And they say girls are the lovesick, emotional ones!” Dorcas snorted as she took a bite of pie. 

“At least Regulus supports me and Gwenog. That’s why he’ll be the best man at our wedding,” McDrew teased, good-naturedly. “With your attitude, Dorcas, you’ll be lucky if I allow you in as Marlene’s plus one.” 

Dorcas flicked a spoonful of potatoes at McDrew, which he expertly dodged. All three of them watched as it sailed over to the Hufflepuff table and hit a younger student in the back of the head. The student swung around to see who’d done it. Immediately, Regulus, Dorcas, and McDrew pretended to be immersed in their dinner, avoiding eye contact.

“Dammit Peeves!” the potato victim swore. Regulus and McDrew tried their best to stifle their laughter. Dorcas was biting her lip. 

“This is why we don’t throw food, Dorcas.” Regulus chided her playfully. “Use your words.” 

“Ah, bugger off or you’ll be next, Black.” 

“Merlin, can we not have a civilized meal for once in our bloody lives?” McDrew lamented. Regulus stuck out his tongue. 

“No way, mate. Never gonna happen,” said Dorcas. “Besides, let’s just enjoy being young and stupid and irresponsible. It’s our last Halloween Feast. Soon, we’ll be out of here. Adults.” She shuddered. 

“Man, I don’t even want to think about that. Life feels like it’s coming up so fast. We’re gonna be out in the real world soon. No more school, no more professors and detentions and all that. Just real world, boring adult life.” McDrew shuddered, too. 

“Yeah,” replied Regulus. He was deep in thought. He, like McDrew, was dreading being in the real world, but, for very different reasons. Mainly, the fact that he’d have to figure out how to casually back out of being a Death Eater without major repercussions. There was so much still up in the air. What was going to happen to him after he left the protection of the castle walls? Regulus had a sinking feeling. He was not sure he wanted to find out.


	8. Meet your Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Quidditch Match of the season has finally arrived! And, some interesting guests have come to watch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 7! Hope you all enjoy! And, if you're on Tumblr, make sure to give me a follow @manage-mischief ! I may be posting some excerpts from upcoming chapters if there's enough interest ;) Thank you guys for making this so fun to write!

_November 1st, 1978_

The morning of the first Quidditch match of the season was crisp and clear. The November breeze rustled through the leafless trees of the Forbidden Forest, howling eerily. Regulus had woken up early in the morning and couldn’t fall back asleep. Careful not to wake anyone, he crept downstairs into the Common Room and found Woodrow already there, staring emptily off into space. 

“You alright, mate?” Regulus asked as he approached his friend. McDrew flinched. 

“Oh! Sorry, didn’t see you there, Reg! I’m ok. Just…you know…nerves.” 

Regulus took a seat across from him. “Hey. You’re the best Beater Slytherin’s ever seen! And you’re a great captain. You’ve helped us come so far. Whatever happens, at least we’ll know we’ve worked hard.” Regulus hoped his words were comforting. He’d never been very good at cheering people up. 

“I know that. It’s just…I feel like if we don’t win today, all of those other people who’re always saying I’m ‘unworthy to be in Slytherin’ will be proven right. About me, and about other people like me who don’t give in to their bullshit. It’s stupid, huh? Thinking the fate of the world rests on a Quidditch match?” McDrew shook his head. Regulus considered his words. 

“Listen, Woodrow. You deserve to be here. You’ve got drive and ambition, and _never_ give up without a fight. _That’s_ what Slytherin’s all about. And besides being a decent Slytherin, you’re a decent human being. You helped me out of a real dark place. You helped me recognize my flaws—without judgement—and taught me I could change. Christ, you even got Marlene and Des and the others to be friends with me! And I know they don’t trust many peoples’ judgement. So, it’s a testament to how much people respect you that they trust yours. Whatever happens on the pitch today, just know that you’ve got a whole group of decent people who admire you. And, it’s those types of people you want in your corner. Trust me. Having the respect of people like Mulciber and Avery and Ginger is hardly something to be proud of,” Regulus spoke from the heart, surprised at his own eloquence. But, he meant every word. McDrew was helping Regulus get his life on track. Regulus owed him so much. 

“Thank you, Regulus. Really. That means a lot. And for the record, I always knew you weren’t like those old friends of yours.” McDrew smiled. The boys stood up and grasped hands firmly. “Alright mate,” McDrew said, puffing out his chest, “Let’s go kick Ravenclaw’s ass.” 

\---

In the Slytherin locker room, Regulus could hear the cheers of his fellow students echoing from the pitch. The team was silent, fearfully anticipating the upcoming competition. They were outmatched, and they knew it. 

“This is it, team,” McDrew began his pep talk. “We’ve trained hard. We’ve worked our tails off every single day. Yeah, Ravenclaw’s tough. But we can be tougher. We have to be. Let’s get out there and show them what Slytherin’s made of!” The group cheered and assembled into formation. At the sound of the whistle, they trudged out onto the pitch, the chaos of the stadium ringing in their ears. Ravenclaw was already waiting for them in the middle of the field. As his team took their positions, Regulus caught Des’s eye. She winked, though Regulus noticed her shaking slightly. McDrew shook hands with Gwenog Jones. Madame Hooch blew the whistle. The game began. 

The match was shaping up to be a total disaster. Despite Slytherin’s best efforts, they had failed to hold back the onslaught of the Ravenclaw offense. They had been pushed back into their defensive zone, unable to break away long enough to rack up points of their own. After about an hour of play, the score was 140-10, Ravenclaw. Regulus knew time was running out. If he didn’t find the snitch soon, they’d lose the match. As he flew high above the action, he heard Linda Jorkins, a fifth year Gryffindor, commentating below. 

“ _Jones, back to Lewis, back to Jones. Wow, nice bludger work from McDrew, she drops the Quaffle to dodge! It’s picked up by Slytherin’s Winston. Winston has it, he’s gaining ground! He’s almost out of the Slytherin zone…aaaaand Fleet pushes him back. That was some fancy flying by Fleet—who is said, by some, to be one of the most eligible 7th year males at Hogwarts—sorry, Professor McGonagall, just providing background!”_

Regulus swore under his breath. So close. His eyes frantically darted around the field.

_“LEWIS SCORES! What an incredible goal! Right between the Slytherin Keeper’s legs!”_

The Ravenclaw end of the crowd erupted in cheers. And that’s when Regulus saw it. The little golden snitch, flitting around near the center of the pitch. In all of the chaos around the Slytherin goal, no one noticed as Regulus shot forward on his broom, his arm outstretched. Only too late did Ravenclaw’s Seeker understand. Regulus’s fingertips made contact with the snitch, and he wrapped his palm around the golden ball. The crowd became eerily silent. Madame Hooch blew the whistle. 

_“SLYTHERIN WINS! I DON’T BELIEVE IT!”_ Linda Jorkins cried from the announcer’s booth. Immediately, the green-clad spectators celebrated. Elated screams cut through the air. Regulus and his team crashed into each other and descended back to the ground. The Ravenclaw team stared, shocked into silence. Slytherin had won. 150-160. 

“Reg, you’re my hero! My absolute hero!” McDrew panted, dripping with sweat. The Ravenclaw team approached them, Gwenog Jones in the lead. 

“Good game, Woodrow,” she stuck out her hand. McDrew seized her waist and kissed her deeply. Her eyes widened before giving in. She had to bend down significantly to reciprocate. Des and George made their way over to Regulus, snickering. 

“Good game, Reggie. Slytherin’s lucky to have you,” George complimented. 

“Ugh, Quidditch is such a dumb sport! We should’ve won! This is why I prefer football—I mean, why even have Chasers and Keepers if the whole game is decided by who catches the snitch?” Des jokingly complained. Then, she enveloped Regulus in a hug. “Seriously, though. Great job, mate! Johnson’s a pretty damn good Seeker and he didn’t even see that snitch until you’d gotten it!” Soon, the rest of Regulus’s new friends had surrounded him to congratulate him on his victory. Marlene and Dorcas had both donned Slytherin green, while Wilhelmina and Broderick sported Ravenclaw blue. However, all seemed to be in high spirits. 

As the crowd began to disperse, McDrew approached them with a huge, goofy smile on his face. Des chuckled. “Merlin’s balls, Woody. I can’t believe you had it in you!” 

McDrew continued to smile. “Bugger off. Oh Des, look! Is that them?” 

Des's face twitched into a slight frown before she plastered on a beaming smile. Regulus looked to where McDrew was pointing. Two older adults were walking towards them, looking very out of place. The woman was tall and curly-haired like Des, but was much thinner and more severe-looking. Where Des’s features were soft and curvy, hers were pointed and sharp. Though she looked distastefully at the other students around her, she smiled when she saw Des waving. The man beside her was about a head shorter than she was. His dark features were lit up in wonder. He held a book in one hand. A pair of glasses hung from a chain around his neck, bouncing upon his sweater-vested chest as he walked. His thinning back hair was parted down the middle. Des ran to greet the pair. 

Regulus turned to Marlene. “Who’re they?” he asked. 

“Des’s aunt and uncle. Muggles. They’ve come to visit and take her to dinner in Hogsmeade. Since, you know…her mum. Dumbledore approved it,” Marlene whispered to him as Des returned to the group, her aunt and uncle following behind her. “Hey! I want to introduce you to my aunt and uncle! Everyone, this is Aunt Eliza and Uncle Thaddeus. Aunt Eliza and Uncle Thad, this is everyone!” Des exclaimed, gesturing at the assembly of her friends. She definitely seemed a little more tense than usual. She was overly bubbly and clearly compensating for something. The two older Muggles shook hands with the young magical folk. 

“Oh, I remember you two!” Thaddeus excitedly squealed as he laid eyes on Marlene and Broderick. “You came over for tea last summer!” Marlene and Broderick smiled and nodded, telling Thaddeus and Eliza how wonderful it was to see them again. 

When the couple finally offered their hands to Regulus, he took them, noting to himself that he had never shaken the hands of Muggles before. It was unremarkable. He chided himself for expecting it to be any different. “I’m Regulus Black,” he drawled in his “impressing-adults” voice. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis.”

Eliza’s eyes narrowed. “Desdemona has mentioned you before. However, I wasn’t under the impression that you and her were on very friendly terms. And it’s _Dr. and Dr. Gilmore_ , thank you very much. Surely, my niece has told you her last name comes from her late father?” 

Regulus blanched. Des winced apologetically. Marlene suddenly became very interested in playing with Dorcas’s hair. 

Thankfully, Des’s uncle jumped in to save Regulus. “Ah, don’t worry my boy. Honest mistake! And please, call me Thad. That whole Dr. Gilmore nonsense makes me feel so stuffy!” 

Regulus relaxed a bit as the older man patted him on the shoulder. “You’re the one who won the game for the green team, right? The searcher? No, no… the seeker! Yes, seeker! I’ve been reading up on this ‘Quidditch’ since I found out we’d get to come to a match! Des loves it, but we’ve sadly never had much time to see her play.” 

Regulus began answering Thad’s questions about Quidditch, grateful for the distraction from Eliza’s cold stares. About fifteen minutes later, Eliza cleared her throat. “We’d better be going if we’re going to make it for our dinner reservations. I’m anxious to take a look at this Hogsmeade you’re always prattling on about, Desdemona.” 

“Oh yeah! Let me just go run and change out of my gear and I’ll meet you back here!” Des turned to the rest of the group. “I’ll see you all tomorrow at breakfast, I guess.” 

“Ah, Des, your friends are certainly welcome to join us for dinner—if your headmaster permits it, of course,” Thad offered merrily. Eliza’s already thin lips pursed even tighter. 

“Really?” Des asked cautiously. “Yeah, that would be great! Would you all want to come? We’re eating at the Three Broomsticks. They’ve never tried Butterbeer!” 

The younger group of wizards glanced around at each other. Although it was clear Des and her uncle were welcoming, they weren’t sure her aunt was so keen on the idea. Marlene stepped forward. “Oh, Des. That’s so sweet, but we don’t want to impose—” 

“Nonsense,” Thad boomed, “The more the merrier! Right, darling?” he asked, looking expectantly at his wife. 

Eliza forced a grin. “Of course. It would be lovely to learn more about your friends. How about you all change while we go speak to the Headmaster, and we all meet back here in half an hour?” 

The group dispersed, and Regulus headed back to the Slytherin Common Room with Dorcas and McDrew. “Have either of you ever met her aunt and uncle before?” Regulus asked. Both of them shook their heads. 

“Nah,” McDrew said. “Heard a bit about them, but Des isn’t really keen on disclosing a lot when it comes to the topic of family. Not that I blame her. She doesn’t always get on with them. Plus, there’s that whole mess with her parents…”

“I know she gets on well enough with her uncle,” Dorcas chimed in. “They’re not related by blood—her mum was Eliza’s sister—but he loves hearing about wizards and Hogwarts. The aunt, on the other hand, isn’t completely sold on the whole ‘magic’ deal. Both of them work a lot so they’re not often around. So, I don’t know how much of the wizarding world they’ve actually seen.” 

Regulus considered this. “Yeah, the aunt seemed a bit…put out. Do you reckon dinner will be ok?” 

“Oh no,” Dorcas answered cheerfully. “This could really only go poorly.”


	9. The Professor and The Poet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus goes to dinner…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I just want to say I have the best readers ever! We are a small but mighty bunch! I really really cannot stress just how much your comments and kudos mean to me! You guys are amazing! Anyways, here’s the next chapter! The drama is beginning… I hope you enjoy! And, as always, shout out to my amazing beta reader @leahstypewriter!
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter.

_November 1st, 1978_

Half an hour later, Regulus and his friends gathered in the Great Hall, awaiting Des and her family. Regulus anxiously checked his reflection in a suit of armor, making sure he looked presentable. He didn’t want to give Eliza Gilmore any more ammunition for criticism. Why he cared so much about impressing Des’s family, he didn’t know. 

“Aw, c’mon now, Regulus, don’t be shy, you’re a good-looking bloke,” Marlene teased him, catching him fixing his hair. 

Dorcas put an arm around her shoulder protectively. “Marls, knock it off!” 

“I mean, you’d think with all the in-breeding the Blacks would be nasty buggers, but then you look at Reg and Sirius and…” 

“Look, there they are!” Dorcas pointed, grinning affectionately at her girlfriend. “Now we don’t all have to listen to you ogling Reg!” 

“Aw, Dorcas, you know my heart belongs to you,” Marlene said dramatically, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. 

Still blushing furiously, Regulus turned to see Des and her relatives coming down the steps. Des and her aunt looked extremely uncomfortable, but Thad grinned widely, unaware of the tension between the two women. “All ready? Wonderful! Shall we?” And so, the oddly assembled group set off across the castle grounds towards Hogsmeade. 

\---

The large party arrived outside of the Three Broomsticks and climbed up the steps inside. Regulus sat across from Des. Amidst the awkward silence, he soon occupied himself by examining the fascinating patterns on her white top. She glanced over and caught him staring and looked offended as she yanked the neckline of her top higher up her chest.

“Uh, I like your shirt!” Regulus quickly remarked, hoping to recover some shred of dignity. 

Des eased, cheeks still tinged pink. “Thanks! I scribble on my clothes when I’m bored. I’m way better at drawing than painting, apparently,” she joked. Sure enough, when he looked closer, he realized that the patterns decorating the material were drawn in ink. Flowers, trees, and all sorts of creatures dotted the white fabric. Hippogriffs danced with dragons. Fairies floated among daisy patches. A witch held up a wand with sunflowers sprouting out of the end. The slight blemishes in her designs—a blot of ink here, an imperfect line there—made them even more memorizing. 

Des’s Aunt Eliza tutted. “You know how I wish you wouldn’t do that, Desdemona. It ruins your perfectly good clothes!” 

“Oh dear, you know Des takes after her parents. Always the creative type,” Thaddeus chuckled good-naturedly. 

Eliza rolled her eyes. “That’s what concerns me.” 

Soon, Madame Rosmerta had taken their orders and the food and drink were served. The gang engaged in polite conversation with Des’s family, though awkward tension still covered the table like a stifling fog. Des’s aunt clearly favored Broderick, who understood the most about Muggle culture, having been raised by Muggles himself. During the dinner, Regulus got the impression that Eliza did not necessarily dislike magic—but she deeply feared it. Behind the frown that donned her face whenever Des and her friends spoke about the wizarding world was an aura of anxiety. However, Eliza kept herself composed and professional, albeit a little snobbish. Although, he had the sneaking suspicion that her behavior towards Regulus was not so much due to the fact that he was a wizard as it was due to hearing six years of Des’s complaints against him. 

“So, dears, tell me,” Eliza questioned, “What do you all want to do once you graduate? I know Desdemona has her heart set on being a doctor.” 

“Healer, Auntie. In the wizarding world, they’re called healers,” Des corrected. Her aunt pretended not to hear. 

“Well, George and I are trying to make it to the Quidditch big leagues!” McDrew cheerfully explained. “George’s dad’s got some connections with the English National Team, so he’ll get in straight away. I’m hoping to start with the more minor teams and work my way up. I’ve been talking to a recruiter from the Chudley Cannons! Though, they are the losing-most team in the league…” 

Thaddeus hung onto Woodrow’s every word. “Fascinating, absolutely fascinating!” 

“What about you both? I’d love to hear what you do in the Muggle world! Des hardly mentions it!” McDrew said, eager to impress. 

Des glared angrily at him. Thad looked hurt. 

“Ah, yes, well. I’m sure compared to what you all see every day, Des was sure hearing about our jobs would bore you to tears! ‘Liza and I are professors at Oxford University,” Thad explained, beaming proudly. Regulus racked his brain. He was sure he’d heard about this “Oxford” somewhere. It must be a halfway-decent Muggle school, based on Thad’s proud demeanor when he spoke of it. 

“Oh, how nice,” Marlene replied. “What do you teach?” 

This time, Eliza chimed in, evidently very pleased that Marlene had asked. “I am a professor of Shakespearean Literature, and Thaddeus teaches Cultural Anthropology.” Regulus glanced around at his friends, hoping he wasn’t the only one who was completely lost. Cultural What now? Whose Literature? He was really regretting not taking Muggle Studies at this moment. 

The rest of the meal was spent pleasantly discussing Eliza and Thad’s work. Regulus discovered that Shakespeare had written lots of plays—many of them very depressing— and that Thad was interested in how customs evolved among populations. He spent a lot of time traveling around the world, studying ancient civilizations and archeological sites. It actually sounded quite fascinating. If he were a Muggle, Regulus thought he would like to study anthropology, too. He laughed internally, imaging his parents’ reaction if they knew Regulus was thinking about what it would be like to be a Muggle. What a scandal! 

Eliza prattled on about her work for a long time, obviously hoping to educate the clueless wizards about the importance of Shakespeare. Regulus could not have been less interested. He doubted any person—magical or not—could have really written all those plays in one lifetime. And, lots of his plots seemed unoriginal. Romeo and Juliet? That sounded a lot like the old wizarding tale of Ranvier and Morgana, to him. 

“And of course, that’s why my sister named her Desdemona,” Eliza continued, gesturing to Des. “After the character from Othello. Janie wanted her daughter to have some connection to me and her old life back here, after she had left.” Eliza paused and frowned slightly as she mentioned Des’s mother. “Of course, my sister was never really much for literature. Othello was the only play I ever managed to get her to read—and I honestly doubt she actually _did_ read it completely through. Otherwise, she’d never have named her daughter Desdemona!” Eliza broke out in high-pitched, quasi-hysterical laughter. The rest of the teenagers uncomfortably laughed along, unsure. 

Regulus whispered to George out of the corner of his mouth, “What happens to Desdemona?” 

“No clue,” he whispered back with a shrug. 

After enjoying a pleasant—albeit dull and slightly awkward—conversation with Des’s aunt and uncle, the group decided it was getting late. Together, the young wizards and two older Muggles walked the trail back to the Hogwarts Castle. 

It had almost seemed as if the night would conclude without any major hiccups. But clearly, based on his life’s track record, that was too much for Regulus to hope for. 

The group were five minutes away from the castle gates. Regulus had remained towards the back of the group with Dorcas and Marlene, listening to tales of Thad’s most recent research adventure. 

“And of course, the Ancient Greeks didn’t worship Juno, they worshipped Hera! The goatskin cloak gave it away. The artifact had clearly been planted!” Thad exclaimed.

Suddenly, an unnaturally strong gust of wind rattled through the trees. The group stopped in their tracks. 

“Did you hear that crack?” Marlene whispered. “It sounded like someone App—“ 

A jet of bright red light shot out from the trees, hitting Marlene straight in the chest and sending her flying. Her head hit the ground with a sickening thud. Dorcas screamed and ran towards her unconscious girlfriend. 

“Wh-what’s going on? Desdemona?” Eliza’s icy cold demeanor melted away. Her voice trembled. 

The seconds that followed seemed to last an eternity. Regulus saw another rustle in the branches, and the outline of a cloaked figure, pointing their wand at Des. Des turned around, sensing danger. Before she could draw her wand, another spell was fired from beyond the tree line, headed straight towards her. Eliza screamed. Regulus flew into action. He crashed into Des, knocking her flat on the ground. The spell whizzed over their heads. Her blue eyes bugged out as she stared incredulously. “Thanks,” she breathed. 

“Don’t mention it.” Regulus pushed himself off from on top of her and stood. The rest of the gang had recovered from the shock of the instant and had expertly encircled Thad and Eliza, wands out. Dorcas was still frantically attempting to revive Marlene. Footsteps echoed from out of sight. There must have been multiple attackers. Regulus had a _really_ bad feeling about this. 

Spells began to shoot out from both sides of the trail. The teenagers began blocking the onslaught, but were tiring quickly. Most of the lethal spells, Regulus noted, were aimed at Broderick and Des and her family. The others were being pelted with milder stunning jinxes. 

George bellowed at the others: “I’ll carry Marlene back and go get help! You all try to inch forward with the Gilmores! Protect them, Broderick, and Des. Get as close to the castle as you can! I’ll bring whoever I can find!” 

“I’m going with Marlene!” Dorcas cried, tears running down her face, uncharacteristically vulnerable. 

“No, Dorcas! You need to help us protect the others! Marls’ll be fine! I promise!” Wilhelmina grabbed her friend’s arm, pleading with her. Still sobbing, Dorcas nodded, and George took off sprinting down the path, carrying a limp Marlene in his arms. 

The attack lightened for a moment, as if their attackers were considering whether or not it was worth it to go after George. 

“ _No. NO!_ ” a voice hissed from beyond the trees. “ _Forget it, it’s just the Fleet boy! He’s Pureblood!_ ” 

Regulus paled. He knew that voice. He remembered it booming joyfully across a crowded ballroom, as his cousin Narcissa had lovingly introduced Regulus to her new husband. Lucius Malfoy. 

Regulus began to panic. Surely, Lucius would recognize him. What would he think? Would he tell the Dark Lord that Regulus had defected? 

“ _Come on! We’ve only got intel on the Muggles and the two Mudbloods. We don’t know about the rest of the lot. Be careful! A drop of pure magical blood spilled is a waste!_ ” Lucius ordered his fellow Death Eaters. Could Regulus be so lucky? Did Lucius really not recognize his face? It was dark, after all. Maybe, just maybe. 

The barrage of spells picked up again. Regulus threw up more shield charms than he could count, and his wand arm was beginning to ache. He looked around at his friends. They all seemed to be tiring. McDrew’s face was as red as a beet. Dorcas was on the verge of hyperventilating. Broderick was bleeding from a nasty-looking gash on his forehead, left by a well-aimed curse. 

“We can’t keep this up forever!” Des yelled from the other side of the circle of bodies. 

“We’re close to the Castle! Can we try and outrun them? Once we get through the protective barriers, we’ll be safe” Wilhelmina cried. 

Even from across the trail, Regulus could feel Des tense. “Yeah. Yeah let’s run for it. Aunt Eliza, Uncle Thad, do you hear that? On my count, run for the castle.” Her voice shook madly. 

Regulus was shocked. It was obvious that they would not be able to outrun the curses. There was a flaw in the plan. He didn’t understand what Des was thinking…until he did. Stupid, brave girl. It was high time Regulus did something stupid and brave, too. 

“RUN!” he heard her shout. He felt the circle of bodies disperse around him, heard the pounding of feet. Yet, he remained still. He looked over at Des.

“Merlin’s ballsack, idiot! I said run!” She yelled. 

“And let you have all the fun? No way in hell, Lewis!” he shouted back. “I’m not leaving you!” The words escaped his mouth before he even registered them. She clenched her jaw and nodded in gratitude. “Let’s finish this, then.” 

The pair stepped towards each other and stood back to back, blocking curse after curse that flew their way. Regulus heard leaves rustle beside him. One of the Death Eaters was trying to run past them and get to the others. 

“LEVICORPUS!” He bellowed and blindly aimed his wand. The resulting grunted told him he’d hit his mark. 

“Nice,” Des shouted, hurling spell after spell towards Lucius and his group, who had now begun to emerge from the trees to fight face to face. 

Regulus felt Des tremble as the imposing, hooded and masked figures approached them. Despite their disguises, Regulus could easily identify each one. He had spent too much time training with all of them. Lucius, one of the Carrow siblings (Regulus could never tell which was which), and Macnair all stalked towards the young witch and wizard with their wands extended. 

The Carrow —who Regulus realized was the sister Alecto, based on her shrill voice—fixed her beady eyes on Des through her mask. “You filthy little—”

“PETRIFICUS TOTALIS!” Des flourished her wand, quick as lightning, and, before anyone could react, Alecto hit the ground, stiff as a board. 

Regulus heard Lucius scoff with disgust at his colleague’s ineptitude. Then, the tall Death Eater turned his head to examine Des’s companion… Regulus saw his eyes flash with recognition.

“It can’t be you…” 

Lucius never finished the thought. In an instant, a brilliant flash of light illuminated the darkly lit trail. Des screamed. Regulus was pretty sure he was screaming, too. The two teenagers held tightly to each other and sank to the ground, trembling. His vision became blurry. He could just make out the roar of curses, flashes of light flying at Lucius and Macnair. Someone was behind them. A jolt of pressure thrown at his chest sent Regulus toppling backwards out of Des’s arms. 

“Regulus!” she cried. He glanced up, bleary-eyed, and vaguely saw her concerned visage leaning at his side. He touched the place on his chest where he’d been hit. His fingers came back bloody. 

There was a loud crack, and the chaos instantaneously ceased. Regulus’s head felt woozy. Footsteps approached from behind. 

“Minerva, please get Miss Lewis and Mister Black to the hospital wing at once.”

Regulus’s vision went dark.


	10. Blue Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus faces his family in the aftermath of the attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! We’re coming up on my two favorite chapters I have written thus far! As always, thanks so much for the reviews, likes, etc… They inspire me to keep writing! I also wanted to let my readers know that requests are still open on my tumblr, @manage-mischief. You can request me to write oneshots for your favorite ships and characters! I had really fun writing my last one and would love to get more! Anyways…here’s the new chapter! Hope you like it! As always, thanks to my fabulous beta reader, @leahstypewriter. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

_November 2nd, 1978_

Regulus’s head pounded as he attempted to open his eyes. The lights were too bright. He never kept the lights this bright in his room. He tried to roll over and pull the covers over his head. He immediately winced at the slightest movement. His chest was killing him. Confused, Regulus forced his eyes open and blinked several times to adjust his vision. 

He was in the hospital wing. He had been attacked by Death Eaters. He had been attacked by Death Eaters he had known, personally, and they had probably told the Dark Lord all about it. He was as good as dead. 

Cringing, Regulus maneuvered himself into a sitting position. Beside him, he noticed Desdemona, laying on her side, wide awake, staring at him. She looked pale and peaky.

“Were you watching me sleep?” Regulus asked drowsily. 

“You risked your life for me.” 

“You’re welcome, by the way.” He massaged his temple, trying to soothe his aching head. “What happened? How’d we get here?” 

“I told you. You risked your life for me. And for my family. And you fought the Death Eaters, whom you used to call friends,” Des stated. He could tell she was deep in thought, analyzing the situation. 

“Does this mean you trust me properly, now?” He asked sarcastically. 

Des pushed herself up to lean on her elbow. “Why did you do it? You had nothing to gain? You could have run.” 

“You weren’t going to run.” 

“Yes, but I was fighting for my family.” 

“Well, I’m sure your aunt and uncle—”

“No, not them. Or, I guess, not just them. I was fighting for Broderick and Marlene and the others. My real family.” Des looked intense.

“What? So, only you can care about them? I can’t want to protect them, too?” Regulus asked, becoming defensive. 

“That’s not what I meant. I just…why do you care about them? About us? You’ve only been friends with us for a few months. Before that, you hated my guts! And...I was a bitch to you.” She paused, looking anxious and ashamed. “What made you decide to stand and fight? To leave the Death Eaters behind?” 

Regulus stared blankly at the ceiling. Des remained silent, expectantly. “My brother is really brave,” he finally spoke. 

He glanced over at Des. She fixed her gaze on him, intently. But somehow, Regulus felt safe. He continued. “My brother is really brave, and I’m not. And my brother escaped the family, and I didn’t. And I…my parents always loved me more than him—that’s not me being pretentious, it’s a fact, and Sirius would say it himself. So, my parents always loved me more than him and they tried to sort of…I don’t know…pit us against each other or something. For a while, I didn’t think it worked. I always admired Sirius. I wanted to be brave and strong like he was. And then he left and I…I mean, my parents treated me like I had won some competition. That I was the strong one, and he was weak and cowardly. And, growing up like that—hearing all the time about how important it was that I uphold the family line—it gets to you. You hear about your noble blood and your family’s accomplishments and when your parents tell you that you’re going to be the one to continue that legacy, to make them proud, it…it changes you. It changed me. I didn’t realize how much it had changed me until Sirius was gone. Without him keeping my head above the water, I drowned. I was sucked in. I became the family puppet,” Regulus laughed sarcastically. “And so, immersed in that sea of loneliness, I decided it was easier to let others control my life than to try and control it myself. And the love my parents and friends granted to me—because I was a puppet, because I let them control me—it became like a drug. A prize. I’m ashamed of what I did. I hate myself for not being braver or stronger. For not resisting for longer. But resisting became too tiring to bear.” 

Des was now seated cross-legged on the bed, elbows on her knees, listening actively. 

“So, tonight,” Regulus continued, “When I stayed behind to fight with you all, I did it because I was sick of being a puppet. Of being a coward. And…I guess I thought…if I did this one good thing, if I faced down my past demons while trying to save the new, unfathomably good people who had come into my life, it might…I don’t know…somehow allow me to move on. Resisting can be tiring. But, in the end, you can either choose to undergo brief moments of fatigue and fear, or resign yourself to an eternity of living a life that isn’t really your own.” Regulus felt a stray tear run down his cheek. A soft hand brushed it away. He hadn’t noticed that Des had gotten up from her bed and sat beside him on his. 

She put her arm gently around his back and guided his head so it rested upon her shoulder. She smelled pleasant--like coconut blended with a citrus he couldn't quite name. Regulus breathed in deeply. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, allowing a few more tears to fall. “I know,” she whispered. “Trust me, I know. I know.” The pair remained in comfortable silence for several minutes, holding each other. The warmth of her body comforted Regulus. He didn't want to ever move. 

“This makes us even now, Regulus,” Des said, breaking the silence.

Regulus lifted his head from Des’s shoulder and raised an eyebrow. 

“You unlocked part of my tragic backstory, and now I’ve gotten to hear some of yours,” she joked awkwardly.

Regulus chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“And,” said Des, “by the way, I _am_ grateful for what you did. More grateful than I can say. I’m not going to lie and say I had full faith in you before. But now, I trust you, Regulus. After last night, I trust you with my life. I’m sorry for how I’ve acted in the past. You just...i got scared when you came and joined us. I don't like change and I...I felt like I was in danger. But I’m—I’m glad we’re moving forward.” Regulus felt warmth spread through his chest, radiating into his limbs. 

But, it only lasted briefly. Regulus suddenly remembered what had been bothering him. “Speaking of being alive, what exactly happened last night?” he asked. 

Des launched into an animated tale, describing Dumbledore’s heroic entrance and battle with the remaining Death Eaters. George had run to his office as soon as he’d reached the castle with Marlene—who was going to make a full recovery, and was sleeping in the bed in the corner with the curtains drawn. Des told Regulus how he’d been injured by a curse from Macnair, who was now in Azkaban awaiting trial. “The two Carrow siblings got caught, too,” she explained. “They found the bloke hanging upside-down from your levicorpus spell, and of course, I got the best of the sister.” Des beamed with pride. “We make a pretty good team, you and I.” 

“Yeah, I guess we do,” Regulus mused. However, his mind kept wandering back to one, stray detail. “And Lu—and the other Death Eater? What about him?” 

“Ah, he got away. Fled as soon as he saw Dumbledore. Slippery little git. But, three out of four, not bad for a bunch of students! Jeez, that was like a real-life Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson! Well, minus the killing curses.” 

Regulus’s thoughts raced. Lucius had gotten away. And he’d recognized Regulus. How soon before Regulus was dead in a ditch somewhere, murdered by Voldemort? He pushed the fear from his mind and tried to focus his attention back on Des, who was now explaining how her aunt and uncle had returned to Oxford safely, obliviated. Everyone was safe now. All was well. Regulus tried to convince himself of that. All was well. 

\---

Christmas holidays arrived in a flash, and Regulus returned home for the festivities. His mother and father were still alive when he got there, so he took that as a good sign. The Dark Lord either remained oblivious to Regulus’s treachery, or had decided not to take his anger out on the elder Blacks. Whatever the reason, Regulus felt like he was able to breathe for the first time in weeks. Despite his complicated relationship with his parents, he didn’t want to be responsible for their deaths.

On Christmas Day, Regulus donned fine, green silk robes and helped his mother and father prepare for the arrival of the rest of his family. His Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella would be arriving shortly for a holiday feast. Unfortunately for Regulus, his cousins and their husbands would be joining them. Regulus would come face to face with Lucius Malfoy for the first time since the attack on the Hogsmeade trail, just about a month ago. 

In an attempt to calm his nerves, Regulus arranged and then rearranged the silverware drawer in the kitchen. Sorting the fine, goblin-made cutlery was mind-numbing and soothing. As he emptied the drawer for a third time, Regulus heard the door creak open behind him. 

“Was Master Regulus not pleased with Kreacher’s work?” Kreacher, the family house elf, croaked, looking forlorn. 

“Oh, no! Not at all Kreacher! You did a wonderful job! I’m just trying to distract myself, that’s all,” Regulus assured the elf, who had been on the verge of banging his head into the wall. 

“Kreacher is glad you were pleased. Is there anything Kreacher can do for you, young Master Regulus? Perhaps some tea to soothe your nerves?” 

Regulus smiled at the elf. He had always liked Kreacher, despite Sirius’s assertions that the elf was a bit off his rocker. “No, Kreacher. Thank you, though. And please, you don’t have to call me master.” 

Kreacher gave a low bow. “As you wish, sir.” 

As Regulus put the silverware back in the draws yet again, he felt panic rise in his stomach. Their guests would be arriving soon. He sat himself down at the table and put his head in his hands. The elf regarded him, concerned. 

“Ma—Regulus…”

“How are you doing, Kreacher?” Regulus asked. He needed to focus, to remain calm. 

The elf looked shocked. “The heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black would like to know how Kreacher is doing?” Kreacher cried. Tears welled in his eyes. He looked adoringly at Regulus. 

“Yes! I hope I didn’t offend you!” Regulus tried to calm the weeping elf. 

“No, no sir! You could never offend! Just…Kreacher has never been asked a question like that before.”

Regulus’s heart sank. Was this really how he and his family treated the poor elf? He was ashamed they'd never had much of a proper conversation. “Well, Kreacher. I apologize that I’ve never had the brains or the decency to ask you about your day.” 

Kreacher’s face contorted into a strange kind of smile, as if he had never made the expression before. “Kreacher has been well, sir. Very well. Kreacher enjoys Christmas time. Mistress Walburga always gives Kreacher leftover mince pies.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“And…how has Master…how has _Regulus_ been?” 

Regulus regarded the elf, wondering whether he should really burden him with his problems. “School has been…fine. I’ve made some new friends. But…I worry.”

“Worry, sir?” Kreacher asked. Before Regulus could respond, however, the doorbell rang. His heart leaped into his throat. Kreacher joyfully bounced up and down. “Oh, guests have arrived! Guests have arrived!” 

From the kitchen, Regulus heard his mother open the door and greet the new arrivals. “Regulus, dear,” she cried, “come say hello!” Sighing, Regulus reluctantly climbed the stairs to face the inevitable. 

“Oh, my darling nephew, you’re all grown up!” his Aunt Druella exclaimed, grasping his jaw with her hand and moving his head to examine his features. “Such a handsome boy, just like his father!” She patted his cheek before releasing him.

Orion swelled with pride. “Damn right. Well, come on then, let’s not leave you all standing outside. Come in, come in.”

The crowd backed into the living room. Regulus seated himself upon the couch and watched as his extended family removed their winter cloaks. 

“Reggie, it’s so good to see you!” Cousin Bellatrix cried and ran forward to embrace him in an uncomfortably tight hug. The hulking form of Rodolphus Lestrange lurked behind her, silently. He nodded at Regulus cordially. 

Narcissa followed her sister and gently hugged her youngest cousin, lovingly. “I’ve missed you, Reggie,” she said warmly. At her side stood the person Regulus had been having nightmares about for more than a month: Lucius Malfoy. 

Her cousin’s husband smiled tightly, though the expression did not reach his eyes. He clasped Regulus’s hand and greeted him. “How nice to see you…again.” 

“Likewise,” Regulus responded, struggling to keep his voice steady. Luckily, his mother approached the group and saved him from any more awkwardness. “Narcissa, Lucius, I’m so happy you could make it! Now, now, I have to ask, are there any little ones on the way?” 

Regulus breathed a sigh of relief. Now, he just had to remain calm and collected for the next three hours. Easy. 

\---

Dinner was delicious, but Regulus could barely enjoy it. His stomach was still in knots. He kept glancing over at Lucius Malfoy, wondering when and if he would expose Regulus as a traitor. As the meal finished, Narcissa stood up and spoke: “Dinner was delightful, Auntie. Please, let me help with the dishes!” 

Regulus’s mother looked confused. “Cissa, you don’t have to do that. Once Kreacher has finished with dessert he will surely…” 

“Oh, but I want to! Think of it as my Christmas present to you. Here,” Narcissa gestured towards the table, “Reggie can help! It will be like cousin bonding time! We haven’t seen each other in months!” Narcissa was almost too insistent. However, Walburga shrugged her shoulders. “Be my guest, dear.” 

As the other adults filed into the living room for after-dinner tea, Narcissa soundlessly shut the door and began whispering spells. 

“What are you doing?” Regulus asked.

“Imperturbable charms. So they won’t hear,” Narcissa replied, still facing the door. 

“Won’t hear what?” 

Narcissa turned around, her pale blue eyes filled with concern. “Let’s sit down, shall we?”


	11. Worries and Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa confronts Regulus about his recent change in loyalties…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah sorry I’m late! This week has been crazy! Thanks, as always, for your support/comments/favorites/kudos! Y’all are the best. Enjoy the new chapter! And, as per usual, thanks to my fabulous beta reader @leahstypewriter. Follow @manage-mischief on Tumblr for more excerpts/requests!

_December 25th, 1978_

Narcissa sat across the table from Regulus, her hands folded daintily in front of her. She regarded him curiously, studying his features. Regulus had no idea what to say. He knew why she had wanted to talk to him. But he wasn’t going to be the first to admit it. He tried is best to look naïve and innocent. 

“Lucius told me,” Narcissa finally whispered. 

“Told you what?” 

“Don’t do that, Regulus. Don’t pretend.” She looked genuinely concerned. 

“Alright. So, Lucius told you. What do you want from me?” He answered coldly. 

“Merlin, Reg!” Narcissa scolded, “Don’t treat me like I’m one of your Death Eater friends! I’m not here to hurt you. I want to help.” 

“They’re not my friends,” Regulus whispered.

“What?” 

“They’re _no_ t my friends. Not anymore,” he said, this time more boldly. 

Narcissa stared at him like he was a wounded animal. “Oh Reg. Oh no.” 

“Stop. I don’t need your pity or disapproval. You don’t…you don’t understand! I made mistakes, based on the lies our family has taught us! Now, I’m trying to make it right! You don’t understand what they want to do. What types of things they would have _me_ do. You can ask your husband all about it!” Regulus snapped.

Narcissa winced from the obvious insult. “Lucius has…mentioned things. But Regulus, I’m not here to try and stop you. I’m not your mother. I’m here to warn you,” she said urgently. 

“Warn me about what?” 

“That night,” Narcissa explained, “Lucius didn’t go to the Dark Lord. He Apparated home. He told me what he saw. You and that Ravenclaw Muggleborn—or girl raised by Muggles, I don’t know. But he saw you and her protecting her Muggle family. You fought against the Death Eaters, despite the fact that you are supposed to be one yourself.” She gestured to his left arm. He remained absolutely still. Her intensity scared him. Regulus had never seen Narcissa like this before. 

“Regulus, Lucius told me that you betrayed him. And worse, you betrayed the Dark Lord. Now, I don’t pretend to condone all of his methods, nor do I claim to be innocent. I have my reservations, like you, but also like you, don’t dare speak of them to my loved ones. I doubt that I’ll ever fully join myself. However, whatever knowledge I have or don’t have in regards to the Dark Lord, I know that you don’t betray He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and live to tell the tale. Worse, you don’t betray the _family_ and get away with it,” his cousin hissed. 

“For Merlin’s sake, Cissa. Mum and Dad would never _kill_ me!” 

“But you’d be as good as dead,” Narcissa said, solemnly. “You know how it is. When was the last time you spoke to Sirius? And me…I haven’t so much as seen Andromeda in years. She…she was my best friend, Regulus. And I’ve heard she has a daughter now and I’ve never even _met_ her!” Narcissa’s voice broke, speaking about her disgraced sister. “My point is, you’re playing with fire. If you think your parents would protect you from You-Know-Who and risk their own reputation with one of the most powerful dark wizards the world has ever seen… you’re deluding yourself.” 

Regulus’s heart raced. His head spun. He had known he was in danger, but Narcissa’s words made it more real, more tangible. There was a good chance that this Christmas could be his last. “So,” Regulus swallowed. “You’ve come to warn me. When will it happen? When is _he_ coming?” 

“He isn’t.” 

Regulus’s jaw dropped. The Dark Lord wasn’t coming to kill him? 

Narcissa exhaled. “Lucius told me about your rendezvous in the woods before he said anything to the Dark Lord. He knew how devastated I would be if I lost another one of my family members in this battle of ideals.” 

Regulus was shocked. _Lucius_ had protected him? He would have never dreamed… “But…what about the others? Macnair and the Carrows? Didn’t they…?” 

“No,” his cousin replied firmly, “They have been dealt with.” 

“Dealt with?” 

Narcissa placed her head in her hands. “I begged Lucius to save you. He promised me he wouldn’t tell The Dark Lord, but he told me there were others who saw. So, we went to Azkaban and…” Her voice shook. 

“And what, Cissa?” 

“The Imperius Curse,” she whispered. “I used it on a guard. And I used the guard to Obliviate Macnair and the Carrows.” 

Regulus paled. He looked across the table at his cousin, who was eerily calm. And Unforgivable Curse? His cousin had used an Unforgivable Curse for him? Regulus felt awful. Selfish, childish, and absolutely awful. Here he was, gambling away his life and he didn’t care one bit about that—but he never wanted innocent lives to be placed on the betting table. “Cissa…” he tried to comfort her. 

“Don’t, Regulus. I would do it a million times over if it meant that you and the family would be safe. I’m not looking for pity. I’m a big girl, I can make my own choices. But please, _please_ , whatever you do, be _careful_. I can’t ask Lucius to put his own life on the line by lying for you again. Please. Think about what you’re doing. Think about the family!” Narcissa was shouting, now. 

“I _am_ thinking about the family, Narcissa! I’m thinking about how I don’t want my only legacy to be death and pain and purity. I’m thinking about all this family has wanted me to do, and how long I’ve obeyed. I promise I will be more careful. But, I can’t promise you that I will go back to the way things were. For me, that would be a fate worse than death!” He shouted back, keeping his eyes glued to hers. The cousins were now standing inches from each other. Narcissa suddenly pulled him into a hard embrace. He returned the gesture. 

“My Mum was right, Reg,” she whispered sadly into his chest. “You’re all grown up.”

\---

Christmas and New Year’s had come and gone. Regulus had never been more eager to return to Hogwarts. He had instructed his new friends not to write to him, lest the letters be stolen and someone discover his treachery. Owl Post was so often intercepted, these days. He especially missed Des, whom he had thought about very frequently ever since their encounter at the hospital wing. When Bellatrix had asked him if there were any interesting women in his life, he’d immediately said no. However, in the back of his mind, he thought of Des. Regulus had begun to realize that his feelings for her may have evolved beyond the strictly platonic. He’d mostly brushed the thoughts aside. There had been way too much going on as of late. But now, with no school, friends, or Death Eaters to occupy his time, he began to imagine what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her, to feel her body pressed up against his own. Warmth filled his chest whenever he thought of her infectious laugh, her biting wit, or even her dramatic outbursts. She was like gravity for his thoughts. She pulled his thoughts towards her forcefully and was almost impossible to resist. He chided himself each time his mind wandered; this was not the time to be fixating on a schoolboy crush. Yet, Regulus continued to think about her. 

One lazy afternoon, Regulus was reading a book in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see light flurries of snow gently falling outside his large bedroom windows, coating the city in the white dust. He set down his book to watch, his eyes drooping as he followed the flakes’ movements. Suddenly, he heard a small scuffle downstairs. Curious, Regulus got up and crept down the steps, past the horrifying wall of House Elf heads, to see what was going on. His nerves were on high alert as he heard something—someone, breathing in the living room. His parents were not set to be home for a few more hours, and his mother had taken Kreacher with her...Who was here? Placing a hand on his wand, which was securely placed in his back pocket, he jumped through the threshold of the door into the living room to catch the intruder. 

“Des?” Regulus was shocked to find his friend lounging on his downstairs couch in broad daylight. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. She looked at ease and utterly gorgeous. “How–wh-what are you doing here?” 

Des’s eyes glinted mischievously. She stood up, painstakingly slowly, and walked to Regulus. Her hips swung seductively with each step. Her tight top hugged her waist, exposing the smooth skin of her stomach. Regulus swallowed hard. If his parents found her here...with him...

“We should be careful,” he managed to choke out, just as Des reached him. She stood before him, hands on hips, as if she was waiting for something. 

“Well?” Des asked in a casual, expectant voice. She cocked an eyebrow and smirked, running the tip of her tongue over her soft, pale pink lips. 

Regulus rushed forward to close the space between them, crashing his lips into hers. The moment he kissed her, all of his confusion faded away. She tasted better than anything he’d ever known. It was like quidditch and laughter and Honeydukes's best chocolate, all wrapped up in the package of her lips. She breathed into him, her lips parting as he slid his tongue deeper into her mouth. Regulus felt his breath hitch as she wrapped her arms behind his neck. 

His body followed his desires. He slid his hands down her back, relishing in her curves as he reached his target. Regulus lifted her with ease, and she responded by wrapping her legs around his waist. She was close. So close. Her thighs squeezed around him, providing a pleasant pressure. Des rocked into him, her moaning muffled by Regulus’s mouth on hers. How was this happening? 

Regulus held her tighter and made for the couch, placing her down on the plush pillows. She released his neck and brought her hands above her own head, squirming with delight as he trailed kisses down her chest. Regulus groaned gutturally. He wanted her. “Are you ready?” He whispered in a low, throaty voice. Des opened her mouth, prepared to respond to his urgent plea. 

But, instead of speaking, an odd, metallic clanging emerged from her throat. Regulus jumped up, frightened. “What the?” Suddenly, he felt a jolt of pain in his side. 

Regulus opened his eyes. He was sprawled on the living room floor, next to the couch where he’d just been dreaming of Des not a moment earlier. He groaned, this time in frustration. Well, if he had any doubts about his feelings for Des before, they had definitely been resolved now. The odd, metallic clanking continued. The doorbell. 

The doorbell turned into a light knocking on the door. As soon as the knuckles hit the wood, his Dark Mark began to burn furiously. Regulus bit his cheek to keep from crying out. Whoever this was--and Regulus was sure he knew--was not going to leave that easily. Fearful, Regulus tread down the hallway to answer the door. When he peered through the keyhole, his worst fears were confirmed. The Dark Lord was standing on his doorstep. 

Regulus thanked Merlin he remembered the Occlumency lessons Snape had given him last year. He took a deep breath, closed off his mind as best he could (although he was still unsure if this would be enough to stop Voldemort from viewing his thoughts) and opened the door to his former master. He’d have to get very good at lying very quickly. His mind went into autopilot, ignoring the adrenaline coursing through his veins. This was life or death. 

Voldemort smiled—which made his snake-like face look more terrifying than if he were frowning—and glided in. “You know, Regulus,” he spoke in a high, cold voice, “I don’t often come into London to make personal calls. Consider this an honor.” He paused and glanced at the younger boy.

Regulus realized Voldemort was waiting for him to bow. Shakily, he bent, his eyes fixed on the dusty carpet beneath his feat. “Please, have a seat. To what do I owe this honor, my Lord?” Had Lucius lied to Narcissa? Had the Dark Lord found out about the night on the Hogsmeade Trail? 

Voldemort sat gracefully in an ornate, high back chair. He treated it like a throne, grasping the armrests with his long, white fingers. “I haven’t seen my youngest recruit in so long, dear boy! I thought it polite to check in. That is, after all, why I knocked on the front door.” His malicious smile stretched wider across his pale face. 

“Th-Thank you, my Lord.” Oh, how Regulus wished his parents had been home. He couldn’t stand the intensity of Voldemort’s red eyes on his face, the cold air that seemed to envelop him like a cloak. 

“You are quite welcome. And also, quite wise to believe that I am not merely here for pleasantries, Regulus. I have a favor to ask of you.” 

Regulus dug his fingernails into his palm, using all of his willpower to keep his voice steady and his mind closed. “Of…of course my Lord. Though, I am young, and could hardly hope to accomplish as much as some of my more experienced compatriots.” 

“Oh, do not worry. This is a simple favor. Barely even requires a thought.” Voldemort folded his hands as he regarded the wizard in front of him. 

“You know, dear Regulus, you remind me a lot of myself, when I was young.” He waited, as if he expected Regulus to say something. However, Regulus could barely process the swords, let alone respond to them. 

Voldemort’s smile faded a bit. “I know you were about to argue that you could never, not even in your wildest dreams, hope to achieve what I have. And you would be right, of course. However, your spirit, it…impresses me. You are descended from greatness, as I was—you are aware that I am descended from Salazar Slytherin himself, of course. You are a handsome, talented young boy, who has a bright future ahead of him. Yet, you see beyond. You understand there are greater things in life than success. You strive for greater principles than money and prestige.”

Internally, Regulus laughed. Greater principles. If he only knew. “Thank you, my Lord.” 

“And so, this is why I come to you, today. You have reached a higher stage of moral reasoning at 17 years old than most adults will in their lifetime.”

“What exactly is it you require of me, my Lord?” Regulus asked, hoping to end this conversation as soon as possible. Though he had decent skills as an Occlumens, he had never been as good as Severus, and could feel his thoughts struggling against the vice within which he had trapped them. 

“I am in need of a house elf.” 

Regulus raised an eyebrow. That was all? He needed his house elf? “Of-Of course my Lord. Will you be requiring Kreacher’s services now?” 

“No, no, not today. I am afraid it is too late to make the journey today,” Voldemort mused. “Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow will do. I shall pick him up tomorrow, and he will help me perform the…errand, I require.” 

Regulus sighed in relief. “Very well, my Lord. Tomorrow, then. Kreacher is a good elf, sir,” He added, putting in a good word for the elf whom he cared for. 

“I don’t doubt it. Thank you for your time, young Mister Black. I shall be seeing you soon, my boy.” There was a crack, and Voldemort was gone. Regulus collapsed back into his chair, almost giddy at the fact that he had managed to hide his betrayal from Voldemort. If he ever saw Severus again, he would thank him a million times over for the Occlumency lessons. Still relieved, knowing that he himself was not asked to perform any tasks for Voldemort, he cheerfully summoned Kreacher. 

“Yes, Master Regulus?” the elf popped into the room as soon as his name was called. 

“Kreacher, I have a very important job for you. And remember, it’s just Regulus.” Regulus smiled at the elf. 

“Kreacher would be honored to perform any such task that Ma-… _Regulus_ …deems important.” 

“The Dark Lord requires a house elf to run an errand with him. He will come for you tomorrow and take you for the day. Do what he says, and then come back home? Alright?”

“Yes, of course, _Regulus_!” His huge eyes gleamed. “Is that all?” Kreacher asked. Regulus nodded and watched as Kreacher happily sauntered out of the room. 

Regulus climbed the stairs up to his own bedroom, wanting to finish his book. His heart was still beating faster than a hummingbird’s as he lounged on the mattress. He smiled as he read. He had escaped wrath from the forest battle, he had survived an encounter with Voldemort. _Perhaps_ , he thought to himself, _life was looking up_.


	12. Everything Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kreacher returns...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! You all are the best! I’m pretty sure you all know what’s coming in this chapter, but I hope you enjoy regardless! For excerpts/asks/requests, follow @manage-mischief on tumblr. Thanks to @leahstypewriter for being a fabulous beta reader!
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter.

_January 11th, 1979_

The next evening, Regulus lounged lazily in the living room, waiting for his parents to get home from work. His arm was thrown carelessly over his forehead as he listened to the quiet popping of the fire. A loud CRACK suddenly ripped through the air. Regulus fell off of the sofa in surprise. 

Swearing, he pushed himself to his feet and searched for the source of the noise. In the corner of the room, Regulus saw a small, shivering thing covered in a tea towel. Kreacher. Confused, Regulus approached the elf slowly and kneeled before him. “Kreacher?” Regulus said gently. Kreacher flinched when Regulus placed a hand on his bony shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

The elf turned his head towards Regulus, and peaked an eye out from behind his hands, which were covering his face. “D-d-dead. Army of the dead. Didn’t know Kreacher could escape. Didn’t know Master Regulus had asked Kreacher to come back.” The elf stuttered. Regulus felt cold and empty. He had been so happy to have survived his encounter with Voldemort that he hadn’t even stopped to think about Kreacher’s safety. What an idiot! How could Regulus think for a second that his loyal elf would be safe with that monster? No one was safe! Not with Him. 

Carefully, Regulus gathered Kreacher in his arms and brought him to his bedroom. He laid the quivering elf on his bed, and covered him in blankets. Regulus poured Kreacher a glass of water from the jug on the windowsill. Kreacher gulped it down greedily. Regulus poured him some more. “R-Regulus is too kind to Kreacher.” 

“Nonsense,” Regulus said, “I am so, _so_ sorry I let you go with _him,_ Kreacher. I-I didn’t know He would hurt you.” Regulus’s excuse sounded feeble, but Kreacher seemed to appreciate the words. 

“No. Kreacher wanted to help. Kreacher wanted to make sure the Dark Lord was pleased with Regulus. Regulus was worried. Regulus is in danger. Kreacher heard Narcissa say. Kreacher doesn’t want Regulus to get hurt.” 

Regulus was surprised at the elf’s astute assessment of his current predicament. He hadn’t even noticed that Kreacher had been in the room during him and Cissa’s conversation. That made him feel worse. “Kreacher…can you…can you tell me what happened?” 

Kreacher’s golf-ball eyes filled with tears. “Kreacher went with the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave.”

“A cave?” 

“Yes. A cave. An underwater cave. Kreacher and the Dark Lord had to swim to find it.”

“And what was in the cave, Kreacher?” Regulus’s mind was racing. Why had Voldemort need his elf to take a trip to a cave in the middle of the ocean? 

“Kreacher and the Dark Lord entered a cavern. Kreacher had to cut his hand to open it.” The elf held up his right hand, which, sure enough, had a long gash running across the palm. 

“Here, let me fix that.” Regulus carefully took the elf’s tiny hand in his own and began waving his wand and muttering healing incantations. The cut stitched itself back together before their eyes. 

“Kreacher thanks you, Regulus. You are the kindest of all of his masters,” said the elf. 

“What happened next, Kreacher?”

“The cavern wall fell away, and Kreacher and the Dark Lord entered a larger cavern, with a lake.” 

“A lake? In a cavern? In an underwater cave that you have to cut yourself to enter?” Regulus questioned. None of the elf’s tale was making any sense. 

Kreacher nodded. “Yes. And then the Dark Lord conjured a boat, and rowed him and Kreacher across the lake, to a tiny island. There was a basin on the island, filled with black liquid. The Dark Lord order Kreacher to drink.” The elf began shaking again. Regulus was furious—at Voldemort for hurting his elf, and at himself, for once again being a coward and doing nothing to stop the pain and misery that Voldemort had caused. Regulus placed a comforting hand on Kreacher’s shoulder. “What was in the basin, Kreacher?” 

Kreacher took a shaky breath. “Kreacher does not know. But, it made Kreacher see and feel terrible things. Terrible. Kreacher was afraid. But the Dark Lord ordered him to drink until the basin was empty, so Kreacher continued. And then, when Kreacher was finished, the Dark Lord laughed and placed a locket at the bottom of the basin, and then filled it back up and rowed away.” 

“He left you there?” 

“He rowed away and Kreacher was so thirsty and there was no water. Kreacher tried to drink from the lake, but…but they pulled him in.” He locked eyes with Regulus. “They-they pulled Kreacher into the lake.” Kreacher broke down in sobs once more. 

Regulus’s vision went red with fury. He attempted to steady his voice as he pressed Kreacher for more information. “How did you escape?” 

Kreacher regarded the young wizard. “Regulus told Kreacher to come back,” he said, matter-of-factly. “So Kreacher came back.” 

“You were able to Apparate out of the cave?” 

“No wizard would be able to. But for an elf, it was easy. You told Kreacher to come back when the Dark Lord was finished with him, so Kreacher did as he was told.”

Regulus stared incredulously. None of this made any sense. “Did the Dark Lord say anything to you, Kreacher? Anything at all? Did he tell you why you were there?” 

“He told Kreacher that he was testing his defenses,” said Kreacher, “and when he left Kreacher on the island, he apologized.” 

“He apologized?” 

“He said, ‘ _I am sorry, dear elf, but I must sacrifice your life this day, so that I may live forever,_ ’” Kreacher said in a perfect imitation of Voldemort’s voice. The hairs on the back of Regulus’s neck stood on end. 

_“So that I may live forever…”_

But what had Voldemort meant? No magic could make someone live forever, no matter how powerful. And if such a power did exist, Regulus certainly had never heard of it. However, if it were possible, if Voldemort had somehow discovered such a power…Regulus’s stomach turned at the thought. If Voldemort could live forever, then they were all doomed. If he couldn’t die, he couldn’t be beaten. He thought of Sirius and his Order of the Phoenix. He thought of Des and the Muggles who had raised her. Of Broderick, the intelligent, understanding Muggleborn. And selfishly, he considered his own life. If Voldemort couldn’t die, none of them would ever be free. 

\---

The first day of classes after the winter holidays had hardly been remarkable. Regulus felt like a zombie, dragging through the hours, longing for sleep. But he couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t. Not until he knew what exactly Voldemort was up to, and how exactly to stop him. Since he had heard Kreacher’s tale, Regulus had spent every waking moment researching dark magic, hoping to uncover the secret. So far, he had found nothing. Besides the Philosopher’s Stone, which was apparently safely hidden somewhere with its creator Nicholas Flamel, there seemed to be no way to ensure immortality. 

But what did the locket have to do with it? Regulus had asked himself this same question hundreds of times in the past weeks. When he closed his eyes at night, the scene of the lake that Kreacher had described haunted his dreams. Ultimately, these nightmares would force him awake in the early hours of morning, during which he would start his day’s research anew. 

After he had finished his last class of the day, Regulus headed towards the library, determined to continue working. Pulling out several books from the restricted section, he set up camp at a table and began to read. 

After an indeterminate amount of time, Regulus became vaguely aware of someone sliding into the seat next to him. When he looked up, he found Des staring at him, concerned. “You missed dinner,” she said. 

“I did? Wow. Times flies.” Regulus turned his attention back to his book. In a flash, Des flicked her wand and the book slammed shut. “What was that for?” he exclaimed, frantically searching for his lost place. “I was reading that!”

“What’s going on, Regulus?” Des crossed her arms over her chest. “You look like you haven’t slept in a year! And now you’re avoiding us! Is this because of what happened before the holidays? Are you…have you gone back to _him_?” Regulus could sense hurt behind the tough façade she was presenting. 

“No! No! Nothing like that at all! I haven’t gone back. It’s sort of the opposite, actually…And I missed you, Des. All of you,” he added. She looked relieved. 

“Ok, so, you’re not back with the baddies. That’s good. But something’s bothering you?” 

“It’s just…I…I can’t say right now.” He glanced furtively around the library. There were too many prying ears. 

Des rolled her eyes. “You know, the fact that you’re acting like you don’t want to tell me just makes me want to know more.”

Regulus hesitated. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to work out a believable lie. Unfortunately for him, his companion was not easily fooled. 

Des cocked her head to the side, analyzing him. “You’re really not going to talk, are you? Merlin, Reg, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you murdered someone.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait, you didn’t…”

“No!” Regulus cried, forgetting he was in the library. He earned himself a few dirty looks from some of the more devoted students. A loud _SHHHHHHH_ echoed from beyond the bookshelves, courtesy of Madame Pince. Regulus blushed. “No,” he whispered. “I didn’t _kill_ anyone, Merlin, Des!” 

“I’m sorry, but with all that’s going on in this bloody world right now, you never know.” she spread her hands defensively. “Ok, so, you didn’t kill anyone, and you haven’t gone back to…you know…so, what is it?”

“You just don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when my friend is in trouble.” Des shook her head defiantly. “And you, mate, are clearly in some kind of trouble.” 

Regulus put his head in his hands. “I just can’t say! It’s too dangerous. I want to tell you, but I can’t!”

Des bit her lip, deep in thought. Her eyebrows scrunched together quizzically. “There’s a Hogsmeade trip this weekend,” she said, after a beat. 

“Ok…?” Regulus replied, suspiciously. This seemed like an odd time to change the subject. 

“I know the last time we all went to Hogsmeade was… _hectic_ …but, I know a place where we can talk without any other prying ears. If you want to talk,” she cautiously suggested.

If Regulus was being completely honest with himself, this was not the type of trip to Hogsmeade he would have preferred to be taking with Des. But, he felt he could trust her. At least, partially. There was no way he could reveal everything he knew. It would be too dangerous for her, as she would likely want to get involved. No. This was definitely a journey Regulus had to undertake alone. Still, perhaps, Des would have valuable insights. “Alright,” he agreed. She smiled softly. 

“Perfect. Meet me in the Great Hall for breakfast Saturday. We’ll go from there,” Des said, making her way to exit the library. “Oh, and Reg?” she called back to him. “Try and get some sleep. You look like a vampire with a hangover.” Regulus chuckled before returning to his studies.


	13. If You Like Piña Coladas...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus learns a little bit about Muggle culture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late! I’ve been so busy with school! But, I hope you like this chapter. I had some difficulty writing it, but I hope it turned out ok! Thank you all so so much for your reviews. I love each and every one! If you want more content, follow my tumblr @manage-mischief. Enjoy! P.S. JK Rowling is trash :)
> 
> **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter ******

_February 7th, 1979_

Saturday morning arrived, and Regulus’s nervous system was electrified. He woke up early in order to prepare himself—physically and mentally, for his trip with Des. As Regulus coated his hands with Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion and ran his fingers through his black hair, he felt like a fool. This trip to Hogsmeade was not a date, it was a mission. Regulus couldn’t afford to reflect on his potential interest in Des until after he discovered Voldemort’s secret plans. He refused to think about the way her thick walnut curls brushed his cheek whenever she whispered to him, or about the way her big grey-blue eyes sparkled with delight whenever she learned something new, or about the way her Muggle jeans accentuated her waist and hugged her…Merlin. He’d let himself get distracted again. 

Regulus took one last look at himself in the mirror. Though he had tried to achieve his brother’s signature “effortlessly cool” look, he didn’t pull it off quite as well as Sirius had. Still, satisfied that he looked decent enough, he marched out of the Slytherin Dorms towards the dining hall. 

Des was already waiting for him when he arrived. The first thing Regulus noticed was that—for one of the only times since he had known her—the witch looked nervous. She kept fidgeting and fussing with her clothing, pulling on her top every few seconds. She changed position ever few seconds, first leaning against the wall, then standing upright, then shifting her weight to one leg with her hip stuck out. 

The second thing Regulus noticed was that Des looked fantastic. She wore high waisted jeans and a tucked-in, tight blue sweater. Her signature clear plastic glasses magnified her eyes and thick eyelashes. Her hair was pulled back in a bun by a red, polka dot bandana like that Muggle poster girl—what was her name…Rosie the Ribbiter? No that wasn’t it…Well, whatever it was, Regulus liked it that way. Des’s eyes darted around the corridor before landing on Regulus. she jumped a little when she saw him. Immediately, she broke into a wide grin, burying any previous nerves Regulus had observed. “Ah, the hermit has left the library!” 

Regulus shook his head, smiling. “I thought Miss Ravenclaw of all people would approve of my new studying habits.”

Des laughed. “Come on, nerd, let’s grab some food and go!” Des led him to a table, where Woodrow and Wilhelmina were already sitting, whispering back and forth to each other: 

_“…bet you five galleons,_ ” Regulus heard Wilhelmina say in a hushed tone. When Des and Regulus arrived to join them, the pair abruptly stopped their conversation. Wilhelmina smiled slyly. “Hello you two. _Lovely_ day for a Hogsmeade trip, isn’t it?” The table jerked violently, and Wilhelmina winced. 

“Whoopsie,” Des said unapologetically, reaching for the pumpkin juice. “Terribly sorry, I must have kicked you under the table by mistake.” 

Wilhelmina was not deterred. “Don’t worry about it, Dezzie, I’m _sure_ it was an accident” said Wilhelmina, before turning her attention to Regulus. “Well now, doesn’t someone look nice today?” Regulus flushed, and Wilhelmina quickly tucked her legs up onto the bench, avoiding another well-aimed kick from Des. 

“Are you two coming out to the town today, too?” Regulus changed the subject.

“After what happened the last time we went to Hogsmeade? No way, mate,” McDrew said. 

“Aw, poor Woody’s scared,” Wilhelmina teased. “I’d go, but I’ve got detention. I may or may not have set off a dung bomb in the library to get back at my ex and his new girlfriend.” 

“Nice,” Des remarked, her mouth full of toast. 

“I’m sure you’ll run into some of the others, though. But remember not to bother Marlene and Dorcas if you see them in Madame Puddifoot’s…or be prepared to deal with the consequences.” McDrew, Des, and Wilhelmina all shuddered at her words. “You two crazy kids had better get going. A line’s starting to form. Have _fun_ ,” she chirped.

Des rolled her eyes and stood. “And you have fun in detention, Willy. C’mon Reg.” Regulus obeyed and followed Des out of the Great Hall. As he left, he heard Wilhelmina begin to laugh. 

_“I still don’t see it, Wil. I don’t think it’s a date. I mean, Des and Reg hated each other up until a few months ago,” Regulus heard McDrew’s not-so-subtle whisper to his friend._

_“You’re so thick, Woodrow. They’re obviously into each other! Marlene agrees with me. Ah I can’t wait to hear what happens! Rivals to friends to lovers! Just like all of the best books! How romantic!”_

Regulus resisted the urge to go back and kick Wilhelmina in the shin himself. If she only knew the true purpose of their trip to Hogsmeade. He couldn’t think of anything less romantic or “cute” than Lord Voldemort’s plans for world domination. 

\--- 

Des and Regulus signed out of the castle with the care taker, and set off upon the familiar path to Hogsmeade. A light blanket of pearly-white snow covered the bare tree branches. The morning was grey and overcast, but enjoyably so. The sun could be seen trying to break through the cloud-covered sky. The cold was refreshing, but not biting. Des’s cheeks and nose were rosy from the crisp air. 

Des and Regulus kept a few inches distance between each other. Neither one spoke. Regulus thought that this must be the first time in her life that Des was at a loss for words. “So…” Regulus tried to begin a sentence. The words died in his throat. He really didn’t know how to engage in small talk. He’d never really had to worry about speaking when he was with Ginger, and, recently, so much of his life had been devoted to his multiple existential and moral crises, that he seemed to have forgotten how to have a conversation that didn’t involve his family, Death Eaters, or Voldemort. Regulus pleaded with himself to say something, _anything_. But, his brain obstinately refused to comply. 

Des regarded him curiously. “So…I know a place where you can tell me about…your little problem…without any chance of being overheard. I don’t think we should discuss it out in the open like this.” 

Of course. Des was focused on their mission—to discuss Regulus’s Voldemort problem. He should be focused on that, too. “You’re absolutely right,” Regulus said, nodding vigorously. 

“You know,” said Des after another awkward beat of silence, “just because we can’t talk about whatever it is you want to tell me out in the open, doesn’t mean we can’t talk at all.” She looked up at the trees, in the opposite direction of Regulus. She bit her bottom lip. 

Regulus’s cheeks tinged pink. “I-I know. Um. What would you like to talk about?” 

Des considered his question. “What’s your favorite color?” 

“What? Why?” 

“ _Why?_ Because I’m trying to get to _know_ you better, Regulus! Now, what’s your favorite color?” 

Regulus thought about it for a moment. “Green.”

“Aw, what a good Slytherin,” Des teased him. 

“No,” he said, “not Slytherin green. Green like the ocean. When I was younger, Mum and Dad would always take us somewhere warm for the winter. We sat on the beach, and Sirius and I would make sandcastles. It was nice.” 

“That sounds nice, spending time with your family…doing normal ‘family’ things. Before they messed with your mind and you joined an evil cult,” she mused. 

“That about sums it up,” he agreed, trying to hold onto the memory of the warmth and the sun and the sand. Oh, how things had changed. “How about you?” 

“Purple. Royal purple, like kings and queens wear,” she stated immediately. Regulus raised a questioning eyebrow, silently asking her to explain. “I’ve always liked it. Though, I guess it’s also kind of related to a memory. But, just a flash of one—from when I lived in New Orleans with my parents. Right before Dad died, when I was almost four, he brought me to the Mardi Gras parade. I can’t recall the details, but I remember flashes of color: green and purple and gold. And when I close my eyes, I can see his smiling face as he held me and put a purple strand of beads around my neck because he knew it was my favorite.” Des sighed. “Merlin, aren’t we a dramatic pair? We start off at our favorite colors, and end up at the sob stories of our broken families.” She laughed uncomfortably and began playing with the cuffs of her sleeves. 

Regulus considered the comment she had made in passing. He thought about his life the past few months. The conversations he’d had, the danger he’d put himself in. Then, he began to laugh. Almost hysterically. He had to stop walking as he doubled over, hands on his knees. She looked a bit concerned. “Regulus? You alright?” 

Between gasping breaths, Regulus managed to say, “You-you’re absolutely right! I am _so. Fucking. Dramatic!_ ” He lost the ability to speak once again. This time, Des joined in. Together, they stood there, smack in the middle of the trail, laughing. Onlookers passed by and shot them odd looks. But Regulus didn’t care. He felt invigorated—lighter-than-air—like he was forcing out the worries, the darkness that had consumed him for the past years. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed this hard for no reason. He felt free. His lungs burned, his stomach muscles ached, yet, he felt alive. 

“Do you…do you maybe want to grab a butterbeer like normal people before we go off to your secret dramatic place to talk about my secret, dramatic news?” Regulus asked, before he could think better of it, still high off of his semi-hysterical breakdown. 

Des grinned. “I reckon that’d be a nice change of pace.” 

\---

“You’re mental! There is no way that _Potions_ is better than Transfiguration!” 

“You asked my opinion,” Regulus insisted, spreading his hands out in front of himself defensively. He chuckled at Des’s indignation. “You asked what I preferred! I’m just telling you!”

Regulus and Des were seated at a cozy corner table in The Three Broomsticks, sipping their butterbeer and asking each other trivial questions. Regulus almost felt normal.

Des rolled her eyes. “Merlin, I know, but I thought you’d have the right opinion. I don’t know if we can even be friends anymore, Reg,” she said seriously. Regulus stared back, playing along with her faux aggravation. 

“Fine,” he said, matter-of-factly. “We’re not friends anymore. Then I guess I’ll just go off and find some other boisterous Ravenclaw to tell all my secrets to. One who appreciates the subtle art of potion making.” Regulus pretended to get up to leave. 

Des tilted her head to the side. “Aw, Reg, it’s sweet you think you’d ever find anyone as ‘boisterous’—as you so delicately put it— as me.” Her façade broke, and she began laughing. Regulus joined in. 

“You’re absolutely right,” he joked. “You’re one of a kind.” An awkward silence fell over the table. Regulus averted his eyes. “Ok, my turn. Hm… let me think of a good one…Alright, alright. I’ve got it. Favorite vacation?” He asked. 

“Oooooh that’s a tough one, Black. I’ll have to think on it. You go first.” 

“Greece,” Regulus replied immediately. “I went to see the Quidditch World Cup there when I was ten. England lost, but it was a great game.” 

“Merlin, you went to Greece and all you can talk about is a Quidditch match? Not the ruins or the history?” Des chided.

“Listen, I’m from an ancient line of pureblood wizards. I can look at fancy old stuff whenever I want. But _Quidditch_ ,” he sighed dreamily. They both laughed. 

“Alright, fair point,” Des conceded. “Quidditch. What a good little pureblood wizarding boy,” she teased. 

“Hey, you say that like it’s a bad thing. I’ll have you know I’m one of the most eligible bachelors in pureblood society. As we speak, families are throwing themselves at my parents in the hopes of getting their daughters a piece of all this,” he gestured to himself seductively. Des cracked up. Regulus had never felt so at ease bantering with anyone before. 

“Oh my, I must have forgotten! I’m in the presence of wizarding royalty! Lord Black! Please accept my deepest admirations! I kneel down at your feet! I exalt you! I envy the woman who traps your arse!” 

“Your turn, Lewis,” Regulus demanded, after their laughter died down. Regulus’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. 

“My turn, right. Okay. The best vacation I’ve ever been on would probably have to be…oh I got it! Our family trip to Cozumel. Uncle Thad was doing some research in Mexico, but Aunt Eliza wanted some time off, so while he worked, she and I went to a resort. I know you can’t really get to know a place just by being in a resort, but I just felt so relaxed. I’d never really bonded in that way with my aunt before—if you couldn’t tell, she’s usually a bit uptight.”

“ _No, your_ aunt? Uptight? _Preposterous_!” Regulus interjected sarcastically. 

“I know, what a shocker. But, really, on this trip, we had so much fun together. We sat poolside drinking Piña Coladas and singing that Piña Colada song loudly whenever it came on the radio. It was brilliant.” 

“Pee-nya Cold-latas?” Regulus questioned, now seriously. “Song?” Des’s eye widened with glee. 

“Merlin’s balls, I forgot all you purebloods aren’t exposed to Muggle culture. Well, let me tell you: _Piña Coladas_ —” Des sounded it out for Regulus “—are by far the best beverage money can buy. They’re made of rum and pineapple and coconut and it’s a rule that you _must_ have one when you are on vacation at the beach,” Des spoke a mile a minute, rambling about her love of the strange-sounding Muggle beverage. Regulus laughed at her enthusiasm. 

“Well, if I ever get to the beach again, I’ll have to try one. And there’s a song about them?” Regulus asked, highly amused. Muggles were quite strange. 

“Yes! The Piña Colada Song is a musical masterpiece of the modern era,” she waved her hands dramatically. “Oh, my goodness!” She clapped her hands together loudly. “I’m so excited! I get to be the one who introduces you to the Piña Colada Song! Ugh, maybe Aunt Eliza will send me her record and I can borrow Flitwick’s turntable…I’ll tell him it’s an emergency…why are you looking at me like that? Have I got a butterbeer moustache or something? Because if I did, it would be extremely un-gentleman-like not to tell me!” 

Regulus was staring at her, his mouth stretched in an uncontrollable grin. “No, no! Nothing like that. I was just thinking about how…fascinating you are, Des. You _really arereally like_ the Piña Colada Song.” A breathy laugh escaped her. Cautiously, Regulus placed a hand outstretched on the table. He tried to act casual about it. Did Regulus really have to talk to her about the Dark Lord? Did he really have to think about the impending doom that awaited everyone he loved if he didn’t figure out Voldemort’s plan? Couldn’t he just leave it to someone else and enjoy his afternoon in peace, like a normal teenage wizard? 

Des’s hand twitched, moving slightly towards his own. Before she took it, however, she looked up at the clock beside them. She sighed. “I reckon we’d better go,” she said, draining the last sip of butterbeer from her mug. He frowned, but nodded. She was right. 

“Come on then, Reg, time for us to have a chat.”


	14. Shacking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus and Des discuss business...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Gah! I’m sorry it’s been so long! I’ve been super busy at school! Hope this chapter makes up for it! Thanks @leahstypewriter for being my editor! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_February 7th, 1979_

“It’s just a bit further,” Des assured Regulus as she guided him along a beaten, forested path. Regulus had never been this deep into the woods surrounding Hogsmeade before. It was quite tranquil, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—was lurking. Des abruptly stopped, causing Regulus to crash into her. He grabbed her arm to steady her before she fell. “Sorry!” he yelped.

“Shhhhh,” Des hushed him as she glanced around the area, cocking her head from side to side. How she could see anything through the dense layer of trees, Regulus didn’t know. After a few moments, when Des was satisfied that they were alone, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the ground. The earth before them trembled and shifted, and Regulus realized that a flat, dirt-covered stone was sliding away, revealing a hole in the ground beneath. Des looked around once more, then lowered herself onto the ground and shimmied through the opening, feet first. Regulus figured he’d better follow. 

The hole in the ground dropped them down into a small, cramped tunnel. Regulus had to double over to avoid hitting his head on the stone ceiling. Des raised her wand at the hole once more, and the stone slid back into place, sealing them in darkness. 

“Lumos,” Des whispered, and the tip of her wand ignited in bright, white light. Eerie shadows danced across her face as she spoke. “Follow me,” she ordered.

Lighting his own wand, Regulus obeyed. After about a five-minute walk/crawl, Regulus noticed that the tunnel was beginning to widen and slope upwards. Des put her wand out and stuck it in the back pocket of her jeans. She pushed upwards on the ceiling in front of her, and it creaked open. It was a trap door. Following her through the doorway, Regulus emerged into a small, ransacked room. Destroyed furniture was strewn every which way. Claw marks marred the floor and walls. Chair and couch stuffing littered every surface. Slate-grey wallpaper peeled off of the walls, revealing rotted wooden panels beneath. The scent of musk and mold hung heavy in the air, making is difficult to breathe. Des did not seem fazed by their surroundings, and began to turn two overturned armchairs upright. 

“Where are we, Des?” 

“The Shrieking Shack,” said Des, nonchalantly. 

“How did you…?” Regulus had so many questions. Des had done many things that had surprised him, but this probably took the cake. 

She shrugged. “Fifth year. Wilhelmina and I were exploring. She tripped over the entrance and found it.” Des noticed the fear in Regulus’s eyes. “Don’t worry, we only came here the one time. Plus, the Hogsmeade villagers say it’s been silent for about a year now. I reckon we’re safe enough. And alone.” She sat down in one of the old chairs and waited for Regulus to do the same. 

“Now,” she said, looking at him analytically—wearing the same expression she so often did when trying to solve a complicated problem, or figure out how something worked, “Spill.” 

\---

Regulus had barely told Des half of what had happened, yet, she still looked like she’d seen a ghost. Which, given that they were in the most haunted building in Britain, could have been entirely possible. 

“You-Know-Who, Reg?! You-Know-Bloody- _Who_?!? In your house?” Des cried. Regulus nodded, rolling his eyes. She’d repeated these words about a hundred times since he’d first told her. She shook her head in disbelief, yet again. “Are you _sure_?”

“Oh no, Des. Maybe it was some other all-powerful, ultra-famous Dark Wizard with red eyes and no nose, and I just got them mixed up,” Regulus deadpanned. He was becoming frustrated. He had only told Des that Voldemort had visited him and was asking for a favor. He’d omitted his prior conversation with Narcissa, as well as poor Kreacher’s report. If this was her reaction to the water-downed version of the tale, what would she think of the real truth: that Regulus feared Voldemort was trying to—and had perhaps succeeded at—becoming immortal? 

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just…shocked,” Des relented. 

“Well, it is a bit shocking when the Dark Lord comes knocking at your door,” Regulus drawled sarcastically. “I mean, how are you supposed to know whether to offer him Earl Grey or English Breakfast?” 

“Reg, this is serious,” Des said, uncharacteristically scolding his attempts at humor. “And, you think he was trying to perform some dark spell? Which one?” 

“Merlin, I know it’s serious, Des! And, I’ve told you, I don’t know…” he half-lied. “That’s why I’ve been researching nonstop. Trying to figure out his plan. But there’s no spell I’ve come across that fits with what I know.” 

Des leaned forward, elbows on her knees. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to force her brain to reveal the answer. “Hm…what about _Inferi_? Raising _Inferi_ is one of the darkest forms of magic I can think of,” she suggested. 

Regulus considered her suggestion. Though creating _Inferi_ was one method dark wizards used to bring people back from the dead, he doubted Voldemort would try to use the spell to keep himself alive. From what Regulus remembered from Death Eater training, _Inferi_ were pretty much useless beyond their capabilities as weapons. They were empty vessels, living only by the loosest definition of the word. He shook his head. “That’s a good idea, but I don’t think that’s it. I think…I mean…I don’t know…” Regulus paused, phrasing his next question carefully. “Do you think it’s possible to live forever?”

Des looked at him like he was mad. “No way, Reg. The only person who’s figured that out is Nicholas Flamel, and even his way is flawed: dependent on a stone and a potion…” she paused, racking her brain. “No. As far as I’m aware, there’s no form of magic that could preserve the soul in the living body for that long. Remember what Professor McGonagall told us in Transfiguration? ‘Though you can shift the body and change its form, the body-soul unit remains untarnished and always binds the limits of Human Transfiguration. No matter how one changes itself, the body and soul set limits. Eventually the witch or wizard is forced to return to their original state.’ That’s why you can’t transfigure yourself to become younger to evade death. There are limits.” 

“I guess that’s true,” Regulus said, impressed she had remembered that complicated lesson. He’d been staring out the window at that time. Still, he was certain that evading death was precisely what Voldemort was trying to do. But how? 

“I still don’t understand, though,” Des pressed. “I mean, you’re only seventeen. Why would You-Know-Who come to _you_? You’re barely of age! I mean, you’re not even a proper Death Eater!” Her brow furrowed. She tapped her thighs with her hands, thinking. 

A pit formed in Regulus’s stomach. He knew there would be a time when he would the exact extent of his involvement with the Death Eaters. It was now or never. Regulus was going to have to tell her about the mark. Sighing, he fixed his eyes upon hers. He gripped the cuff of his left sleeve and yanked it up, exposing the tattooed skin on his forearm. Des quietly gasped. 

“I told you I am ashamed of who I was. How I followed my family without question. That I have a lot of mistakes to answer for, and that I was lost and confused for a long time. The Dark Lo— _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ —thought I was…talented…and well connected. And my cousin was already working for Him. He chose me. And, before I truly realized what He wanted me to do, what lengths He would go to for his cause…I…” Regulus couldn’t finish. A lump had formed in his throat, threatening to choke him. He continued to stare into Des’s wide eyes, determined. He wouldn’t run away from his past. He would confess everything to her. She deserved that much. 

Des leaned forward, slowly. Carefully, as if she were handling an armed bomb, she took his outstretched, exposed forearm in her hands. She stared at the mark for a long time, not saying a word. She ran her thumb up and down the length of it, careful not to brush the ink that would summon the Dark Lord to their very position. Regulus sat as still as a statue, watching her watch him. 

“War is really coming, isn’t it?” Des asked quietly. Regulus was surprised at the innocence of her question. He didn’t respond. He knew she knew the answer. 

Des dropped his arm. He saw no tears in her eyes, nor any fear. “I don’t know what I thought. That none of this was real? That everything would be solved by the time we left Hogwarts? That we would get to live normal lives?” She laughed cynically. “ _But that_ ,” she referred to his Dark Mark, “is definitely real.”

Regulus’s heart raced. But he would not back down. He was sick of being a coward. That’s what got him into this mess to begin with. “It’s real. I let it happen. And I regret it every day. It won’t come off, I’ve tried everything I can think of. But, it reminds me each day that I need to do better. That I need to _be_ better. Lest I make the same mistakes that led me to where I am today.” 

“Regulus Black,” Des said suddenly, “you’re an idiot.” 

Regulus was taken aback. “E-excuse me?” 

“You heard me. Idiot,” Des said, though she was smiling softly. “There, I had to rage against you a bit for getting that idiotic tattoo. Now that that’s out of the way, I can help you figure out a way out of the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.” 

“Des, it’s not that simple, and I—”

"Merlin's balls, I _know_ it’s not that simple! But that’s it, isn’t it? That’s how I know you are the better person you’ve been striving to be. Because, even though it’s not easy—in fact, it’s probably one of the most difficult things to do—you’re trying to fix it. You’re trying to stop You-Know-Who’s plans, you’re trying to remove the mark that’s bound you to him… Merlin, you even risked your life to fight against your former Death Eater colleagues to save my muggle family who you’d only known for a few hours! If you think I’m not going to do all that I can to help you out of the mess you’ve gotten yourself into, then you don’t know me at all.” Des’s words were fierce, her blue eyes flooded with determination and loyalty.

“Des, I…” Regulus tried to speak. There was so much he wanted to say. “You never cease to surprise me.” 

Regulus and Des were extremely close, leaning forward in their chairs. Regulus shifted infinitesimally closer, wondering if he should allow himself to do what he’d been thinking of doing ever since she’d comforted him in the hospital. Before he could commit to making another move, however, she placed a hand on his cheek, stopping his advance. 

“I said that I thought we could have normal lives. But… with all that’s going on,” she sighed, “I don’t see that happening.” 

Regulus knew she was right. “I know. Too much baggage. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to…have a _normal life_ ,” he insinuated before slumping back into his chair. He saw her hand begin to move, and her odd nervous finger-tapping had commenced. 

“Well, you never know. Maybe this will all end. Someday. But for now…” she trailed off. She clenched her hands into fists, and the tapping ceased. 

“For now,” Regulus agreed somberly. 

The young witch and wizard rose from their seats wordlessly and ventured back towards the shack’s secret door. Des paused at the tunnel entrance, and Regulus expectantly waited for her to take out her wand to open it. Instead, she quickly spun around and planted a soft, timid kiss on his lips. It barely lasted a moment, but Regulus’s insides flooded with warmth. She smiled at him as she pulled away. 

“I just had to see what it was like. Once.”


End file.
